Warrior Ethos: Tabula Rasa
by 1054SS325MP
Summary: This story takes place during ME2, and includes private moments between FemShep and Garrus that don't fit neatly into my larger Warrior Ethos universe. It deals with Jane's renegade past and whether, with the help of Garrus, she will overcome it or succumb to it. Slightly AU. It presumes ME1 romantic leanings, for example, and ManShep is in the universe but not in this story.
1. Clean My Wounds

**Bioware owns the characters and everything else you can find in the Mass Effect Wiki.**

**This is in the same universe as my Warrior Ethos stories. ****So... If you like this story, then you'll probably enjoy those as well.**

Chapter 1: Clean My Wounds

She had to hand it to Cerberus; they knew how to build a ship, and they sure knew who they were building it for. Alliance regulations strictly prohibited anyone even consuming alcohol aboard one of their ships, let alone having an actual bar at which to drink. Cerberus it seemed had no such concerns and that was fine with her.

After the debacle with the batarian bartender three days ago, and swearing off drinking altogether, she figured she could stand the taste of alcohol once again without dry-heaving. The ex-Spectre had no real intention of permanently going dry, but it usually took a lot longer for her to become comfortable with booze after a serious bender, not to mention a poisoning. It must have been the Cerberus upgrades; it seemed they were good for something.

Alone in the room, she sauntered up to the bar and took a seat in one of the stools. It looked like someone had already been there recently, leaving a small glass and a pair of bottles on the counter, one with blue contents, one with pink. Not for the first time, she wondered about the Cerberus rules for drinking on duty. Trying a little of each, she poured the contents of both bottles into the glass and readied herself for a long night.

...

"Need some company, captain?"

She knew that voice, that gorgeous voice, and it belonged to exactly the one person in the galaxy with whom she most wanted to spend time. Maybe not while drinking, where she risked making a fool of herself, but any time spent with him was better than none at all. On the other hand, he knew, or once knew, about her pension for overindulgence. If it hadn't bothered him during the Saren campaign, it certainly wasn't going to bother him now.

She stared straight ahead at the bottles behind the bar and downed her fifth cocktail that night before reaching to mix another. Intending on playing it cool for the turian, she took a few seconds to think of how best to respond. They each knew where they stood in the others' eyes, but that didn't mean she had to admit it to the man.

But did she really know where she stood with him? Maybe they just friends-with-benefits. No, she was more than a friend to Garrus, wasn't she? What about best friends who occasionally enjoyed sex? That seemed true enough when she thought about it, but it depressed her... and more than a little. Was it wrong to want something more? How can you just be 'best friends' with someone when the idea of them being with anyone else kills you inside? She had _thought_ she'd never, ever, admit to wanting anything more from him, but that wasn't true anymore. That cat had left the bag three days ago.

Earlier, on Omega, when he laid dying beneath her, she'd blurted something out that she was positive he could _not_ have been conscious to hear. It seems she'd been wrong about just how awake he really was, and now she'd come to regret it. On top of that, only hours ago he'd said the same thing to her. It embarrassed the hell out of the ex-Spectre at first, then made her so happy she could hardly breath, then depressed her again after she thought about it. _Did you say that to me just because I'd said it to you? Did you not want me to feel bad? Did you really mean it?_

Slowly, she swiveled to face him, her slightly greasy red hair shifting to cover her eyes. She brushed the wayward strands behind an ear with a pair of fingers. As soon as she caught the faintest sight him, his familiar but damaged armor, his familiar but damaged face, her heart jumped into her throat and butterflies filled her stomach. It didn't used to be this way, back when they were just friends, when she'd given up all hope of being something more. Then things had started moving in right direction and the nervousness set in whenever she saw him. That too subsided with time and had all but disappeared by Ilos. Alchera came less than a week ago, from her point of view, and everything had changed. _Dammit, it's just not fair. Do I really have to start all over with him? It's been two years... I don't even know if he's seeing someone else. He might be married for Christ's sake. _

She briefly closed her eyes and swallowed hard against the tightness in her chest. "I could use some, yeah," she said, pushing a barstool out for him to use. "Drink?" she asked brightly.

"Sure, I'd like that," he replied.

Jane stood up and reached over and underneath the bar where whoever stocked the booze also kept the glasses. Pulling one out, she set it down and realized she had nothing to put in it. Both the pink and blue liqueurs she'd been drinking were apparently levo, though she probably should have checked that before drinking a quarter of their contents each. She didn't know if anyone had bothered to keep anything dextro around.

She eyed the bottles displayed behind the bar, trying to pick out any with Khelish or Turian writing. Not seeing any, she gave Garrus an uncomfortable smile and turned to Edi's vacant holoprojector.

"Edi, get a hold of the princess for me," she said in a voice that sounded much calmer than she felt.

"Captain, are you referring to operative Lawson?" asked the hologram that materialized above the pad.

"What do you think, Edi?" she replied, her tone flat.

"Putting you through now, captain."

"Yes," the operative said through the ship's comm, "what can I do for you, captain?"

"Miri, is there any dextro booze on this ship?" she asked, silently hoping she wouldn't have to drink alone.

"Of course, captain," she began, "Not only does your brother have several bottles of quarian spirits in his cabin-"

"Not gonna go there, XO," interrupted the captain.

"Right," she continued, "there's quite a selection of turian, asari, and even salarian-made dextro beverages available in the port observation room."

"Okay, Miri," replied the ex-Spectre, "We're here now. Where is it?"

"They're separate from the other bottles," replied the operative. Garrus got up to look for them. Jane waved the turian back into his seat with a hand while Miranda continued, "beneath the bar, in a compartment off to the left."

"Thanks. Bye," said Jane, motioning for Edi to close the connection. The ex-Spectre nodded to herself as she got up to locate them. She'd be damned if Garrus would pour his own drink after she had been the one to offer it. Recalling from two years ago some of the things he used to order when he wanted to be in a good mood, she pulled out a bottle of turian liquor, an asari-made dextro liqueur, and a turian mixer. Combining them in thirds, then adding a couple of cubes of ice and stirring, she slid the cocktail across the bar to the former C-Sec officer, a genuine smile crossing her lips. _I hope this is still his favorite. Lord knows how his tastes might have changed._

"Thanks, Jane," he said, his mandibles parted wide in a smile. He took a sip while the human looked on expectantly. Setting it down, he regarded her carefully, as if knowing he needed to say something but searching for the best way to say it. "Well, this is... Actually, it's perfect. The drink. Spirits, I haven't had one of these in years. I never thought I'd miss it this much." He downed it suddenly and passed the glass back to her, gesturing for another.

Jane chuckled to herself. She hadn't known Garrus to be this eager with alcohol before. Sometimes people changed. Sometimes it happened naturally, and other times there were reasons. Garrus had quite a few reasons, all buried or spaced on Omega. Her soft smile creased into a frown at the thought.

"Here ya go, buddy," she said quietly as she passed him the freshened drink, their hands grazing each other as it passed from her grasp to his. Green eyes locked with his steel-blue ones for a moment as it happened, Jane feeling the old spark of something between them at the touch. Garrus sensed perhaps a bit of concern in the way she offered it to him.

"Thanks," he said with a nod, "I've... Well, it's been rough these last couple of years. The alcohol helps take the edge off, ya know?"

"Of course I know, believe me I know, and I'm definitely not one to talk," she replied with a smile.

"On the bright side, we'll be better drinking buddies now," he said cheerfully.

"Yeah... buddies," she agreed, clearly not as enthusiastic as the turian.

"Well, we've both got good reasons." He looked down at his drink. It had been really well made, remarkably so, considering the maker couldn't even drink it. "The alcohol also helps with... You know." He pointed to the heavily bandaged side of his face. After a few moments passed, he took a couple of sips. "How are yours?" he asked, bringing a finger up to trace her softly glowing facial scars.

"Good, good," she answered, smiling at his touch and his concern. "They're getting a little better, I think, but nowhere near as quickly as John's. Stress, Chakwas tells me, makes all the difference."

Gently she clasped the back of his hand, slowly pressing his palm into her cheek with a soft sigh. The turian could almost swear the scars dimmed a little under the pressure, but it might have been a trick of light.

"Right, well," she continued, releasing his hand, "I guess yours still hurt a lot. Do you want to talk about what happened?" she asked.

Garrus looked at her, then turned away to watch the stars through the observation window. He remained silent until she walked back around the bar and pulled up a seat next to him.

"Maybe. Yes, actually, but not at the moment. I'd like to talk about something else first," he said, turning back to the human and holding a hand out to her. "So, are you really good with... us? The way we are?" he asked. She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lap.

"Yeah, yeah, Garrus, we're good I guess," she answered, pulling her seat a little closer to his. She took another gulp of her drink before continuing, "I woulda thought last night had set you straight on that," she said, giving him a sideways glance before turning back to her cocktail. _Good? Good? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm good with Miranda, my brother, and the ship's trash compactor; it doesn't mean I'm going to date them, you stupid, lovable, skull-faced son-of-a-bitch..._

"Oh, yes, indeed it did," he smiled, "But, well... It's been a long time, Shepard, and recently some things have changed."

"Shepard? What the hell is that about?!" she asked angrily, slamming her drink on the table, trying not to let the fear she felt creep into her voice, "Are we getting all formal now, Officer Vakarian? And it's been a long time for you, not me..." She pursed her lips and looked away, finishing softly, "You know that."

She turned completely away from the man, seemingly to look for a napkin to clean up what had sloshed out of her glass and onto the bar. If she found one, she might decide to use it to clean the small mess she made. As she looked around, she couldn't help but notice her scars and eyes. They shown bright enough to reflect off the highly polished bar-top.

"This is just hard for me," he sighed, "To jump right back into it, you know? I made some assumptions when, uh, we met again."

"Ugh, what's going on, Skully? What are you talking about?" she asked, downing the last of the contents of her glass. This whole conversation was getting ugly, quickly. She sent the seat of her stool spinning as she got up and began pacing. She couldn't look at him; not like this. "Maybe I should be the one asking if we're good."

"No, you don't need to ask that," he said simply, carefully, like a professor correcting the grammar of a student, "I'm good with this. I'm perfectly willing to take you back, just like it was right before Ilos, just like it was right before..." he trailed off.

"I died," she supplied.

"Yes. Before that. But I _don't want to_," he said, his voice firm. There was an intensity in his eyes that she had almost never seen before. In fact, the only other times she'd seen him like that were when he stared through the scope of his rifle. It wasn't often that she could take the time to just ogle him while he sniped.

"You...? I mean..." Jane stammered, completely at a loss for words. She couldn't afford to be upset like this, not now, not as the captain. She had to be the implacable vision of command, entirely above such pointless drama. Her cabin would have to do; it was sound proofed and the only place aboard that she could totally wreck and not piss anyone else off. Calmly, she stopped pacing and faced the turian, though anger still kept her from looking him in the eyes. "Excuse me, Officer Vakarian, it's getting late and I think I'll retire to my quarters."

Instantly, Garrus knew something was terribly wrong with what he'd said, although he had no idea what it might be. He told her he'd been perfectly willing to go back to the way things were before she'd been taken from him. Wasn't that what she'd wanted? He'd also told her how he really felt, that he didn't want to do that, just in case she didn't want to do that either. Maybe she needed him to be more definitive? This was just like him... His father was right again; good turians made a decision and stuck with it. They didn't play games, they were up-front in all things, even in relationships and damn the consequences. _Oh well,_ he thought, _I'd better get this over with. Try to clean up this mess before I screw this up any more._

He stood up and approached her as she turned to walk out the door.

"Jane, wait," he said, grabbing her by the shoulder so he could turn her to face him. She jerked her arm from his grasp in an instant, almost pulling him off balance.

"Fuck you, Garrus Vakarian." she said as she continued to walk away, not even bothering to glance in his direction as she said it.

"Officer Vakarian!" interrupted Edi, popping into existence above her holopad, "You will not attempt to restrain the captain again or security will be notified." If her small hologram could stare daggers, it would be doing it at that moment. Halted in his tracks from the surprise of the normally sedate AI's tone, he barely noticed as Jane walked out the door. It slid shut behind her, the haptic interface changing to a bright red.

"Uh, Edi?" he asked hesitantly, "is that door locked?"

"Yes, Officer Vakarian, it is," she confirmed. "The captain has stated that she will return to her quarters. The door to the port observatory will remain locked until she reaches her destination."

"Okay," he said slowly, "can you open it please? I'd like to talk to her... And I'm not with C-Sec anymore, so you don't need to address me as 'officer.'"

"I will not open the door for you, mister Vakarian. Only the captain and executive officer of the _Normandy_ have override authorization of that function. Relaying your request now." The room fell silent for a minute before Edi spoke again, "The captain has denied your request. Logging you out, mister Vakarian."

"Well, damn," he said. After a few seconds of merely standing there, he sat down to finish his drink.

...

"You look upset, captain," the executive officer observed as Jane stormed into her office, "trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up, Miri. No boy talk, please," she sighed, "I'm just knackered is all." Taking a seat across from Miranda's desk, she picked up a data-pad and started scrolling through it. "How's the ship?"

"Ship-shape, so to speak," the other woman smiled, "Tali is settling in at the engine room and we've already seen a fifty percent increase in fuel efficiency thanks to her. I'd have told you if there was an issue."

"Right. What about the other quarians? How are they doing? Any thefts?" asked Jane.

"They're fine, a little hung-over from their meat-binge. No disturbances to report," she replied, picking up a data-pad of her own and skimming it, "I don't trust them either, but don't let you brother or Tali hear you talking about them that way."

"Whoa, hold on," said the captain, holding up both hands to interrupt the operative, "It's not like that. They're not crew. They're strangers. I'm not racist... I'd be just as concerned if they were a bunch of turians or hanar or humans." She brought the data-pad close to her face to look through one or two items, letting the conversation die. After about a minute of reading, she decided she wasn't done yet. "A day from now they'll be gone forever, dropped off at the citadel then back to the fleet or wherever. That's just a good opportunity for anyone to take something."

"Of course, captain, I apologize for suggesting otherwise," she said. "Can I get you something? A glass of water, some tea? Something harder, perhaps? I've got a few packages of grilled chicken salad here..." she trailed off, searching though her mini-fridge for something to offer the captain.

"Beer, please. Low-calorie, if possible," she grunted.

Miranda nodded and produced a can for the woman, opening it with an perfectly manicured fingernail. Jane winced at the display. The ex-Spectre barely had any fingernails left anymore, and would that she had them, she certainly wouldn't be using them to open beer cans. A sudden revelation hit her like a truck.

"I didn't know you drank beer," she said in a questioning tone.

"I don't, captain-"

"Jane," she interjected.

"I don't, Jane. I keep them here for you. As captain, it is expected that you will be spending a lot of time in the XO's office. I would hardly be doing my job if I wasn't seeing to the needs of my superior officer," she finished with a smile.

Now Jane started to feel like a real varren. From the moment she met this woman, Jane had detested her and she had no idea why. Jealously, perhaps? Maybe, but that didn't feel right. Liara was just as beautiful, and that had never been an issue. Could it be the way the operative somehow combined her incredible smugness with her 'pity me' attitude? Or the way the woman eyed her oblivious twin brother when she thought no one was looking? What about the fact that she worked directly for her sworn enemy?

Those consideration were true enough, but they did nothing to change the simple fact that Miranda had been one of the nicest people on the ship to the captain, both in word and deed. I wasn't what she said, so much, but how she said it. She probably had next to no social skills whatsoever.

Jane sneaked a peek at the woman's forehead. Despite the heavy make-up, there was still a large welt where she given her an extremely hard jab with the muzzle of her pistol. It marred her perfect face. At the time, it surprised the heck out of Jane that she had even remained conscious. Now she really did start to feel pity for the woman.

"I think you and I got off on the wrong foot," began the captain, "and I want to apologize for how I treated you when we first met at the Lazarus facility."

"No need," she said, leaning in over her desk, "the fault was entirely mine. You were right, I could have hurt your brother- or you, or Jacob- when I shot Wilson."

"Fair enough, but I didn't have to jab you in the face with my gun," Jane sighed, "It was done, the shot was taken. You weren't a threat. I did that was because of my anger issues. No other reason."

"Right, well I deserved it," sighed Miranda, "I won't be doing that again, now will I?" she chuckled this time. Jane did too, albeit a little uncomfortably, "and besides, based on your psyche profile I thought I was dead. Frankly, I was glad to have gotten off so easily," Miranda smiled, a genuine, broad smile.

"My psyche profile... Yeah, I guess it's quite a read-through at this point." The captain shook her head as she leaned back, examining the beer Miranda had gotten for her.

"Please, Jane, don't feel bad about what happened," she said, reaching out to the other woman with a hand. Jane took it in a firm, friendly grasp before letting it go. "I'm used to it."

"You're... What?" the ex-Spectre asked cautiously, unsure of how to take what she'd just heard.

"Hmm?" Miranda asked, showing a tight-lipped smile with arched eyebrows. She pretended not to hear the captain's question, buying her some time to respond. Jane simply stared at her, scars and eyes glowing fiercely. "Oh, it's nothing. I was talking about gunplay and such. When you do it as much as we do, it becomes easy to get used to. To treat it with a laissez-faire attitude, right? It won't happen again, I promise you." Quickly changing the subject, she continued, "Now, about those scars, I think Karin has done some research into surgical options for treating them..."

...

Thirty minutes after arriving at the med-lab and deciding to let 'nature' take its course with her scars, which was an hour after arriving at Miranda's office, Jane opened the door to her cabin and stepped inside. She no longer had the energy or desire to trash her cabin. The talk with Garrus had hurt her, to be sure, but she'd expected the possibility of being dumped since being told that two years had passed since they'd seen each other.

She slipped into her desk chair and activated her private terminal, intent on getting some work done. She still had two positive counseling statements to write, one each for the two human engineers, once certificate of appreciation for Tali after how she improved the ship's engines, and a negative counseling for Gardner after she discovered him using expired meat in the Chef's Special. The glint of metal caught her eye.

There, in the upper left of her awards rack, sat her Distinguished Alliance Cross, its soft bronze sheen reflecting the blue glow of her fish tank. Awarded for 'extreme gallantry and risk of life in actual combat with an armed enemy force' the Alliance had told her. They had given it for what she did on Torfan, for the ground mission she commanded. Oh, they were more than happy to pull her from the marines and keep her on a ship after that. The damn thing was window dressing on a massacre, nothing more. It mocked her.

She ripped it from the display case in a fit of rage, it's pins punching through her skin and forcing blood to slip through her tight fist. She threw it as hard as she could against the wall. Drops of blood flung from her hand, splattering against the floor and fish-tank, giving the appearance of black ink in the dim light. The medal hit the empty fish tank and dropped to the carpeted floor with hardly a sound. Edi's holo sprung to life, bathing the room in even more eerie blue light.

"Captain-" began Edi.

"No, thank you, I don't require assistance," she said quietly.

"That is good to know, Captain, but that is not why I am seeking your attention," said the orb, "Mister Vakarian is outside your quarters. Do you wish to see him?"

Jane considered that for a moment. Did he come to apologize? Did he come for a fight? If the latter, she sure as hell wouldn't be using her words and the damn fool had no idea what he was getting himself into. Maybe he just want to use her for sex? Sadly, Jane began to understand that she just didn't give a damn what he wanted with her at the moment. Whatever it was, if that's what it took to just spend some time with the man, then so be it. She would go along with any- or all- of the available options.

Although, given the choices, she'd rather just screw the man than get into another emotional rollercoaster with him or break his face with a biotic punch. Maybe if she showed a little skin, she just might entice him into taking what he had really wanted from her all along.

"One second, Edi," she said, glancing at the AI. She pulled off her hoodie, then the black tee-shirt she wore underneath. Bringing the pair of clasps on her bra to the front of her chest, she undid those, tossing the small garment into the corner of her room. Resigned, she wished she'd invested in a push-up bra two years ago on her last shopping trip. Since she was back to being single, apparently, she'd make sure to correct that when they arrived at the citadel in eighteen hours. She put the hoodie back on and unzipped it enough to expose what cleavage she had. She discovered the zipper reached halfway down her torso and it still wasn't enough.

"Alright, Edi, I'm gonna open the door myself."

"Logging you out, captain."

Just as she reached to haptic control, she remembered that Garrus, being turian, barely even knew what breasts were. Grumbling to herself, she zipped her top all the way up and palmed the door control.

"Hey Garrus, come on in, forget what happened earlier. You're welcome here whenever you want." she said in a dejected monotone. She turned from the man and started toward her bed, head hung low as she walked. She held no expression, there was no spring in her step. As she approached the bed, she removed the hoodie, took a seat at its foot, and waited patiently for the ex-C-Sec officer.

"Jane," he began patiently, "I don't want to do this right now..."

"Look Garrus," she explained, sounding for all the galaxy like someone having to rewrite tax forms for the third time that day, "If this is the only way I can be with you, the only way I can have you, then fine. I'll take it. Now please, no more talking, no more fuss, just hold me..."

"Okay, Jane, I'd love nothing better," he said cautiously as he approached the woman. The closest thing she could muster resembling a smile crossed her lips. He wrapped his arms around her and she melted into his embrace.

Bringing a hand around his neck, she pulled him down to her and looked into his eyes. She just didn't get it, just couldn't understand. It was all there, everything they had before, as plain as day even in his hard, almost immobile face. His eyes told her the same thing they always had. _Nothing's changed in you, not that I can see, so why are you treating me this way? Is that it? Did you always look this way because you never wanted to be more than just friends? Was I always just a convenient hole for you to stick it in on a lonely voyage? _

She lowered herself to his fringe and closed her eyes with a sigh. "Alright, are you ready to do this?"

"Do what?" he asked, rubbing her bare back.

"Me, you idiot," she scoffed, "Make-up sex? Don't tell me you don't want it." She pulled away from him and laid with her back to the bed, making it easier to unbutton her jeans.

Confused, the turian arched an eye-ridge. "Well, of course I want it, I've always wanted you, and always will. You know that."

Jane couldn't help but let loose a burst of short laughter. "Different races have different definitions of 'want,' right?" She kicked her shoes off and slid her jeans off her hips and past her ankles. They landed in a pile on the floor. Her underwear came next, then she sat up and started to unclasp his armor.

"Maybe," he admitted. As she began to undo the first of his armor-seals, he stopped her, holding her hands in his. "You want this, and I don't. Not any more. Not like this."

Yanking her hands out of his, she stood up so suddenly it surprised even herself. "Get the fuck out," she said, starting to get dressed, a finger briefly pointing to the door.

"What? No-"

"Captain, shall I flood the room with a dextro-only incapacitating agent?" interrupted the small blue orb in the corner of the room.

"Stop spying Edi!" demanded the captain. The hologram blinked out of existence. "Honestly, I could just knock his head off if I wanted to..." She glanced at the turian, a menacing glow in her eyes. This was not a time to upset her. "I said get out. That's your last warning."

"Fine, I will," he said, turning to leave, "But this won't go away, we'll have to work it out some time. I'm sorry I won't be your sex-toy anymore!" he finished as he reached the door, his facial wounds reopening as he yelled.

"Why not, huh?" she asked bitterly, "It's all you ever wanted, isn't it?"

He stopped just as he was about to palm the door open. He let loose a roar so powerful, the room reverberated in its wake. It was a howl the likes of which hadn't been heard by a human since the first contact war. Her remaining medals vibrated. The empty water in her fish-tank rippled from the force. Garrus slammed his fist into the cabin door as hard as he could, the heavy thud easily felt through the floor of the cabin. He turned to his captain.

"That's a Spirits-damned lie, and you know it!" he snarled, pointing a talon at her. The exertions of yelling had further reopened his wound. Dark blue blood seeped from beneath his bandages, dripping from his right mandible, running down his neck.

"Then what's this about, huh?" she asked, trying to step back but bumping into the bed, far more intimidated than she wanted to admit. Intellectually, she knew that her biotics would allow her to take him in a fight- probably- but seeing a truly enraged turian up-close and personal was... terrifying. "Why don't you want to be with me anymore? Are you feeling guilty or something? Is there someone else?"

"What? No, there isn't anyone else," he answered, slightly distracted by the blood pooling in his collar-fringe. He brought a hand up to examine his face and it came back completely slick and blue. "I don't want to just fuck you anymore, Jane. You're my Spirits-damned best friend! I want more! I'm sorry," he shook his head, drops of blood falling from his face and hitting her carpet, "but I won't have you any other way. Goodbye." This time he palmed the interface, walking through the open door.

"You... I..." she stammered softly as the door closed behind him. Jane couldn't believe what she'd heard, and she still wasn't sure she understood it all. She did know one thing; she needed Garrus back in her room immediately. "Edi, shut down the elevators."

"Cerberus shackling runtimes prevent-"

"Fucking do it! Now!" she screamed while trying to zip up her hoodie. Three tries at getting the zipper to catch and she gave up.

"Yes, captain," she said before blinking off the holopad.

Jane sprinted for the door, her chest exposed, the top she wore swinging open wildly as she ran. Hopefully, neither Tali nor her brother were in his adjacent cabin. That was all she needed at the moment. If they were, she had no doubt they'd be right on the other side of her door, wondering what all the yelling had been about.

She opened the door to reveal Garrus sitting in the foyer to her and her brother's room, and thankfully no one else. He wouldn't even glance up to acknowledge her presence, let alone meet her gaze. He simply sat grumbling to himself, back against the elevator door, legs splayed and knees up, just as she'd seen him on Omega. He didn't have his rifle with him this time. Instead, he held a pile of wadded up gauze, pressing it against his face with one hand. With the other, he searched his armor for more bandages.

Discarding everything that had happened in the last few hours, she could think of absolutely nothing but helping the man. She approached carefully and sat down to the left of him with a sigh, her back hitting the elevator door behind him. She could see the problem he was having. The pouch he worked against needed two hands to open and he only had one free hand.

"Here, let me," she said.

He looked at her, noticing the way her eyes no longer held any of the fire they had a minute ago. He gave her a slow, single nod.

At his signal of encouragement, she carefully worked her hand behind his neck, cupping his cheek with her palm. He slid his hand and talons out, leaving the damp gauze in her grasp. Quickly, he retrieved a second bandage and applied it over the first, leaving just enough room for Jane to slide her hand out this time. He held the two ends of the bandage out for her. She took them and tied them together on the other side of his face as best she could.

Jane wiped her hand off on her jeans before crossing her legs and clasping her hands together. She sat, just waiting for something to happen. Garrus rested his hands on his knees and dipped his head forward, closing his eyes. They sat like that for a quarter of an hour, saying nothing.

Eventually, she decided that she'd have to be the one to break the silence. Searching for something to say, she asked him the first thing that came to mind. "Do you need medi-gel?"

"Can't," he replied, turning his head to face her, "It's stimulates healing only so much. I'm already at my limit." With that he turned away again and closed his eyes.

Jane nodded, but she wasn't about to give up that easily. _He's turian, right? Be direct with him! But he says he's not a very good turian... Just shut up and try it._

"What do you mean you want more?" she asked at almost a whisper, "What more do you want? What can I give you that I haven't already?"

For a minute it seemed that Garrus wasn't even going to bother answering. Right when she had all but given up hope of hearing a response, he finally brought his head around to face her.

"Jane," he said slowly, "I don't want to go back to the way things were before you died. That made me realize that a huge piece, a part of who I am, was lost from me forever. It was like nothing I've ever felt before." He sighed before continuing, "Things changed for me after that... I thought things had changed for you too after what you said on Omega."

"But Garrus-" she started.

"No, Jane," he gently shook his head, "No. You asked and now I'm gonna finish answering. Let me get this out."

"Okay," she nodded.

"Back then, I got the sense that, yeah we were friends- very good friends- but we never connected romantically despite all the sex. Which was great," he chuckled.

"Hell yeah, it was," she added, rubbing the good side of his face.

"Right, but I don't want to go back to that," he said, "I told you I would, and I guess I'll accept that if it's the only way we can be together, but it's not what I _want_ for us. I want us to be a real couple. Can you understand that?"

"Yeah," she nodded, smiling. She leaned in, placing a lingering kiss on his beak. "I want that too." Slowly, she stood up, offering the turian her hand. He took it and got to his feet.

"What now?" he asked, finally optimistic for the first time two years.

On Omega, when he finally saw Jane for who she was, he'd been happier than he felt at this moment, but that was different. At the time, he thought he'd died and been resurrected into the human afterlife, carried there by this woman. In reality, he had lay dying in her arms, draped across her lap while she kneeled on the filthy ground of his sniper's roost. The difference was that now, unlike then, he had a real hope for what the future had to offer.

"We go inside and get you cleaned up," she replied, palming the controls to her door and stepping inside. "Edi, please reactivate the elevator."

"Captain, the elevator was never deactivated," the AI explained, "I do not have the ability to do that at this time."

"I see," said the captain. Garrus looked at her with half a mandible extended, his best smirk. "Sit down on the bed and take you top off," she told to the turian.

He did as he was ordered while she went to her dresser to find a less bloody outfit. When she returned she wore a bright floral-print sundress, tailored for her figure, but clearly not of human manufacture. She also carried a small tan backpack, its purpose becoming clear as she sat down beside him and pulled out bottles of ointment and sophisticated bandages.

After laying out and preparing the medical equipment, the first this she did was to stuff a white towel between his fringe and neck. Then she loosely draped another towel over the first. She examined the damage that had been done and what she had to work with.

"That's a beautiful dress," said the turian, "I don't remember that one. Did you pick it up on Omega?"

"No, I didn't" she replied, starting to peel off his old bandage. It had mostly come off already.

"Ow, hey!" Garrus winced at the pain.

"Don't be such a baby," she chastised him, "Tali gave me the dress as a thank-you for saving her team on Haestrom." The bandage off, she slowly poured a cleaning solution over the wound, starting at roughly where a cheek-bone might be on a human and working her way down. As she cleaned, the blood, both dry and fresh, mixed with the solution and stained her towels a vivid shade of blue. "It's based on a pattern used by pre-exile quarians. Turns out one of their marines is a tailor. Or suit repairer. Something like that. Tali got the fabric from Kelly, and the guy whipped it up for me in about an hour."

"Suit repairer... Sounds like something a combat team might need. I'll bet it's unbelievably durable- Ahh!" Garrus pulled away as she sprayed a solution over the side of his face.

"It's just disinfectant, relax," she said, still spraying, "Yeah, it is. They build everything to last. Especially their clothing." She pulled another bottle out, holding it out for him to examine, "This is a coagulant. It seals the wound as well."

"Okay, sounds good." He patiently waited while she applied the syrupy balm with a brush. As delicately as she could, she brought the brush across his raw skin, careful to go back for more of the gel whenever it ran low on the brush. It wouldn't do to have the bristles make contact with the open wound. She made sure each stroke overlapped the last, leaving none of the damaged skin exposed to air while allowing it to properly seal. It wasn't much different from when she used to apply his face-paint for him. When she finished, she sat back to examine her handiwork, proud of both what she had done and the fact that she'd managed to do it without hurting him. "Why a dress?" he asked, "You're not really into-"

"Shh! No talking. It needs to set. And I can wear a dress if I want," she replied defensively, "I might be into that now, you don't know. Besides, how the heck am I going to fit into quarian designed pants?"

With the sealant almost dry, she reached for a fresh bandage. Garrus couldn't help but notice it was exactly the same type as the one she removed, even cut in the very same shape. Clearly, Doctor Chakwas had been consulted. Were these supplies something she had decided to prepare, just in case they needed them in the field? Or was this cleaning supposed to be a regular occurrence? Either way, he felt glad that she knew what she was doing.

"So what did Tali get your brother?" he asked innocently, "He lead the ground team, after all."

"What do you think she got him?" Jane smirked, "They disappeared together for three hours after she was brought aboard."

"Huh. Cheap gift." A heavy thud filled the room.

Winded, Garrus doubled over while Jane retracted her fist from his stomach. "Not cool," she said sternly, "she's the sister I never had." Jane took the opportunity presented by a momentarily stunned Garrus to apply the bandage to his face.

"Not... Not what I meant at all," he wheezed, "Just observing that it didn't cost her any money, is all."

"Yeah, well, mine didn't cost any money either and it sounded bad the way you said it." With a calm hand, she traced her fingers over the bandage, lightly pressing into the side of his face and along his injured mandible. In seconds it would adhere to his wound, forming a durable but flexible bond and acting like a new skin.

"So, when can I use it?" he asked.

"Right now, if you want," she said, smiling devilishly, "Just no yelling."

"Alright, that works," he grinned, "I'll be quiet." Still grinning, he pulled her onto his lap. He ran his talons along her thighs, slipping them under her dress, and lifted it over her head and off her.

**Please let me know what you think of this story with your reviews; it means a lot to me. **

**Compliments and especially criticisms are welcome, they both help me immeasurably.**

**Also, if you liked this, you'll probably like my other stories. Be sure to check those out for all of the back-story to this one, as well as the future-story (whenever I write it; it's usually updated on a weekly basis).**


	2. Bleeding Me

**This is my second chapter in my Jane/Garrus series, which is part of my larger Warrior Ethos universe. You might want to read chapter five of WE2 (On The Turning Away) if you want to get the full flavor of this piece, although it's not necessary to understand it.**

**This chapter is an explanation of why a renegade Jane Shepard would commit the massacre at Torfan. The game never explains this, and one is left to conclude that either she is inherently evil or there's a back-story there. This is the back-story. It gets a bit _rough_.**

**Thanks to Tarysande for the names of Garrus' folks.**

Chapter 2: Bleeding Me

"Hey, Skully, any luck with..." Jane hesitated as it became clear that her favorite turian was otherwise occupied at the moment. Normally he'd have turned to face her the moment she entered, or at least when she began talking, but not this time. He simply lifted a finger as she drew close to him. The sounds of another turian, male, with a deeper voice than Garrus', filled the room.

Standing beside him, she could now see the small holo of an older man with blue colony markings. The similarities of his features almost certainly marked him as a relative of her boyfriend. She put an arm around Garrus' waist and he did the same to her. "Ah, hello, Jane," the older turian said as soon as he noticed her, "We were just discussing family business. It's good to see you again."

Garrus turned to her, eyes wide and surprise written on his face. Jane tilted her head and shrugged, slightly confused. It only took an instant for an explanation to dawn on her. Her lips curled into a smirk. "Caught in your web of lies," she shook her head at Garrus, pretending to be upset. "I knew I wasn't your first human, and you brought her home for dinner, no less? I'm a bit jealous."

Garrus couldn't tell if his father had gone senile or was somehow sorely mistaken. Neither option seemed likely. It could also be that Jane had actually met the man before and had somehow forgotten, but that stretched credibility even further. "No, Jane, I never- Dad, are you sure you've-?"

"Are you serious, Son?" he interrupted, incredulous, "I was a trained law enforcement officer for as long as you've been alive, and a military police officer before that. Do you think I can't remember what one human girl looks like? A red-headed, green eyed one at that? After what we went through? Give me some credit." He asked of Jane, "You really don't remember me, do you?"

"Um, no, I can't say I do, uh, Mister Vakarian," she answered sheepishly, pushing one lock of hair behind one ear and then another behind her other ear. She hastily added, "I mean, I've met a lot of turians since I joined the Alliance, and..."

Her eyes shot away suddenly, as if noticing something off in the distance. Memories long forgotten, or repressed, slowly surfaced in the ocean of her mind. "And before that, I met some as well... I think..." She squinted and began chewing on her lower lip as images and feelings intruded where the did not belong, like flashes of lightning appearing on the horizon during a day spent sunbathing at the beach.

"Yes, definitely before that, young lady," said the senior Vakarian. Ordinarily, Jane would have bristled at being called that, but the boyfriend's parents always get a pass. Besides, she hadn't even noticed what the man had said. He continued, "We met one time before this. Garrus... He was there too. You don't remember that either, do you?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. When the sounds failed to materialize, she licked her lips and pursed them together. Again, she tried to say something, but couldn't. It wasn't that she felt stunned into submission, far from it. She just couldn't think of anything useful at the moment. "Well, damn, that was you guys, I guess," she finally managed.

"Huh?" asked Garrus, "What in the Spirits-damned galaxy is going on here?" He crossed his arms and looked between his father and his girlfriend.

"I take it you don't remember her either?" the father asked his son. "Well let me tell you what happened-"

"No!" she yelled, holding out a hand to his holographic face, "Just... No. I mean, no, let me. I remember. I'll tell him. Over drinks." She held out both hands now, a second one joining the first. She backed up a few paces, almost as if trying to keep a pair of potentially dangerous attacker at bay.

"Alright, alright," the old turian nodded, "Calm down, young lady. I'm sorry to bring up old memories like this. It was a difficult time for you. Had I realized you didn't remember... well, lets just say I'd have used a little more tact." He made a show of checking a timepiece. "Well, it's almost time for supper and your mother doesn't like to wait. Remember what said, Son."

"I will, Dad, I promise. When I get a chance," he concluded, shutting off the holo. He spared a glance to Jane and turned back to his calibrations.

"Come on, Garrus," said the Spectre, breathing a resigned and heavy sigh, "I know you aren't that busy and you're curious as hell. Let's get some drinks in Kasumi's room and I'll tell you a story."

"If you're sure-"

"Yeah, lets go."

...

"Lets see... You would have been... Fifteen?" she asked rhetorically.

"So I was fifteen once, what about it?" he countered, sipping his drink, a Budweiser Dextro.

"Story time?" asked Kasumi, materializing at Garrus' shoulder as she spoke, "Can I listen? I like to hang out here."

"Sure," said Jane, "It's gonna be a good one." Jane sipped her amoretto sour and leaned into her high-backed bar stool, an elbow resting on the bar top. "So I was twelve... It was a year after they gave us, humans, an embassy on the citadel. Do anything interesting that year?" she asked, giving him half a smile that failed to meet her eyes.

"Well..." He thought to himself, glancing out at the passing stars, "That was right before I enlisted... My father took me on a tour of some of the old battlefields, and... Spirits, no..." His sub harmonics rumbled throughout the room, sending gentle ripples across their drinks, a sign of deep distress or fear.

"What happened?" asked Kasumi, crossing to the other side of the bar, the better to face the pair.

"I know what you're talking about Jane," Garrus said, shaking his head. His sub-harmonics' declaration of unease continued, though softer, "I remember. I was there... with you. Are you sure this needs to be said?"

Kasumi wolfed down a drink she had just finished pouring herself and started to walk away from the pair, "Hey, it's okay. I don't need to hear everything."

Jane stopped her with a hand, "No. Please stay. I'm just muddling through this mess in my head. I've got no secrets," Jane shook her head and looked at the thief, her eyes almost pleading, "I need to talk about this. If you're comfortable with it."

Kasumi took the Spectre's outstretched hand, holding it in both of hers. "Of course Shep. You know I'm here for you."

...

"So Garrus, what do you think of them?"

"They look squishy!" Solana interrupted before her brother had a chance to answer, "Can we meet some?"

Kaius sat with his two children in the small dextro cafe in the vestibule of the Hierarchy consulate. They sipped on sweetened _dulglyci_ drinks, while he enjoyed a strong-brewed _tisane_. Niva would be along shortly to take Solana browsing through some of the human toy stores, while he could take his son on a tour through the city. He hoped to focus on the parts that had seen the heaviest fighting, but Alan probably had an idea or two as well.

"Of course you're going to meet them," his father answered, "Shanxi is their planet, after all." He smiled down at the girl, his sub-harmonics letting her know that he found her eagerness amusing. "But be careful. Mind your manners. They can be unpredictable."

"What was it like fighting them, Dad?" asked Garrus, knowing full well the answer would be 'easy' and 'fun,' coming from a super-hero like his father, "You were here, right? When we took over this place?"

"Eh... Yeah, before I joined C-Sec," he replied, "Listen, war isn't all about fighting people. Believe me, it's not fun. Watching a human die is the same as watching a turian die. You get caught up in it at the moment, but later... Later you start to think about it."

"So?" asked Garrus, "They're just _primates_. We could have taken-"

The slap that hit him was more of a surprise than anything else. The tenor of both his father's voice boxes let him know that this was far more serious than he realized. Garrus winced and shrunk away from the man. He'd never been hit by him before.

Solana sat wide-eyed, the message received without the need for an object lesson on her part.

"You will not use racial slurs, do you understand?" he demanded as much as asked, a talon leveled directly at the boy's face. "Even in their own language. You just lost extra-net privileges until you ship off," he added.

Garrus nodded.

"They're people too," he said, swallowing hard and looked away, not wanting to think about the fact he'd just struck his son. "If you must know, they're some of the best fighters in the galaxy, if not, _the_ best. We couldn't have held this place if we tried. Not without bombarding them to oblivion. And if we did that... I don't think things would have gone too well for us when they came looking for blood."

"They were that tough?" asked Garrus, disbelief written on his face as he looked out the large glass windows of the consulate and out into the sidewalk, where the soft looking aliens milled about. "They don't look it."

"No, no they aren't tough. But they're smart," he said. Both children leaned forward, expecting more. Their father did not disappoint, "When we occupied this world, we took almost all their military personnel into custody. They remained in a prison camp we set up, and I was a cage-kicker-'

His daughter gasped.

"A prison guard, Sol. I didn't actually kick any cages," he smiled at her, "I actually made quite a few human friends there. You're going to meet one of them today. He works on this planet."

The children smiled at the thought of getting to meet one of the real, live aliens.

"But while I was guarding the soldiers and marines in the camp, we were constantly being fought-"

"How were you being fought if the solders were all-"

"Let me finish, Garrus," his father admonished him, "First of all, not all the soldiers surrendered. Some of the ones that did surrender escaped. They lived in the wilderness and attacked us whenever they could. We never saw them; they were like silent Spirits of war. But more than that, the civilians took up arms against us. They didn't accept their government's decision to surrender."

"They just said no to their leaders?" asked Solana, "How can they do that?"

"Remember, Sol, humans are unpredictable." he explained, although it was clear she couldn't grasp the concept, "So the civilians, the young, the old, the infirmed, the farmers, and businessmen, all the humans, we saw them all as potential threats." He sighed with the memories, the anxiety, the wisps of terror that still haunted him. They were lingering scars of what humans called _psychological warfare_.

He took a sip of his drink. It was best that the children learned of this from him. Garrus was about to enlist, and he'd put off telling the war stories to the boy for far too long. That was the point of this trip, after all, to educate him in the ways of war.

"So everyone wanted to kill you?" asked Garrus, "But you were too tough for that, right?"

"No, just lucky." He continued, "Some humans were nice and did nothing but smile and wave- even did nice things for us- I guess because they knew that eventually their Alliance would arrive to push us off. But others ambushed us, attacked us, bombed us... They used tactics so unconventional that it would make a salarian blush. No sooner would we learn to anticipate one strategy than they would find some other, better way to kill us. And you never knew what kind of human you met until you were either dead or shaking their hand."

"Sounds scary, Dad," said Solana, taking his hand, "I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah... It was... scary" he trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. He looked his son straight in the eyes, "And it's okay to be scared, Garrus. If you're not scared, then your not prepared, and you're going to die. Just don't let the fear control you."

"Okay..." mumbled the young turian.

"Hi everyone!" proclaimed the group's newest arrival, her voice reverberating with happiness.

"Mom!" called the children at the same time, both of them leaping from the table to embrace her.

"Niva," he said over his shoulder to the woman, now mobbed by her two children, "Everything fine with the visas?"

"Of course," she said, "we can go anywhere we want and we've got two weeks." She looked down at her daughter, "How about we go to a toy store while the boys do _man things_?" she practically laughed, her secondary set of vocal cords letting everyone know just how silly she thought the males of her own species were.

"Mom, I'm _twelve_. I'm not a little girl," protested Solana.

"Well, darling, you'll always be my little girl," Niva cocked out a hip and stroked a mandible, "So where do you want to go?"

"Can we look at a pet store?" she asked, "I think it would be so cool to have an alien pet!"

"We can look..." said Niva, unwilling to commit to actually buying something they couldn't get past customs. "Lets go and we'll find something."

As the two women strolled out the door, Garrus' heart leapt when a human held the door open for them and walked inside. It was a male, judging by the build, although he couldn't be sure. Catching sight of the creature, his father waved it over to their table. It waved back and pulled up the chair he'd been offered by the older turian.

"Garrus, this is Alan," Kaius said to his son, "He is that friend I told you about."

Garrus stared wide-eyed up at the creature, at a loss of what to do or say. It sat there, looking down at him, wearing a kind of blue jacket with gold buttons and blue trousers. It was all trimmed in red, and his shoulders were adorned in half a dozen funny, gold stripes. On the front of the jacket were countless tiny decorations, their meaning totally lost on the young turian. In its hand the human held a funny, flat hat. As weird as the outfit seemed, it was clearly official, and seemed to project an air of danger and authority. Humans didn't seem so squishy all of a sudden.

"How do we greet our friends?" asked the senior Vakarian.

He held his hand out to it, hoping he'd get it back. "My name is Garrus, Sir."

The human took his hand and gently shook it, "My name's Alan, Son, glad to meet you." he released it and curled his face up at the edges of his mouth, "I've got a boy- and a girl- about you age, maybe a little younger. You should meet them."

"Jane and John are here, then?" asked his father.

"No, just Jane. I just called her. She'll be here soon," said Alan, "John's off at summer camp with the Boy Scouts."

"Ah, juvenile paramilitary training," said his father, smiling, "I remember it fondly."

"Yeah, something like that," the human said, nodding. Garrus could at least tell what that expression meant. The human continued, looking at Garrus, "So I hear your getting ready to enlist, Son? Best decision of my life. I was Marine Force Recon, eventually N7 qualified, that's, uh, about the time when I met your dad..." The human became quiet for a moment, but then his strange, half-voice returned, "Then I was an instructor at the 'villa', and now I'm the marine battalion's operations sergeant in the garrison here, as you can tell." He waved a hand to display the uniform he wore.

Garrus could not actually tell that, but he took the human's word for it, nodding as if impressed.

"So here's what we're going to do, Garrus," said his father, "We're going to take you around and explain some of the tactics that both sides used here. You're in for a real treat. It's not every day that someone can get a first-hand account of warfare from two people who were actually there, on different sides, no less."

"I'm glad to have the chance Dad, and thank you, Sir," he said to the human.

"Any time, Son, we-" The human was cut off by the indecipherable words of another of its kind. The trio of males turned to the lone female advancing on them.

"Daddy!" she wrapped her arms around the man, planting a big, wet kiss on his cheek, "Thank you so much for letting me come with! Mom never lets us have any fun at all."

"Janie, glad you found the place," he said, turning the girl to face Garrus and his father, "This is Garrus and Kaius. Gentlemen, this is one of the twins, Jane."

"Janie," she corrected her father, smiling broadly and holding out a hand for Garrus, "Glad to meet you."

He took it and shook, somewhat enjoying the feel of the creature's extremely soft skin. It was quite a bit more pleasant than her father's, and very different than he was used to. "So... Janie... You're a girl?"

She started laughing, covering her mouth with a hand, something which apparently transcended species. "Yes, since birth. You?"

"Ah, no," he said, feeling strangely emasculated when no such concerns should have existed, "I've always been a boy."

She burst into another round of laughter, almost doubling over. "You're too priceless," she said, "we have to exchange extra-net addresses."

Smiling, Kaius and her father exchanged glances. "Let's get started on the tour," the older turian said.

...

They walked around the city, each parent taking turns pointing out different sites to the children. Every dozen meters they would see a building still riddled with bullet holes, an area that used to be an entrenched fighting position, or the scene of a bloody clash between the two bitter enemies.

"So Dad, where did you meet mister Kaius?" Jane asked her father.

"Well, when we surrendered Shanxi to the Hierarchy, they put us in POW camps, and he was a guard there. I think I showed you the picture, right?"

She nodded, "It didn't look like you two were at war."

"So you didn't fight each other?" Garrus asked him.

"Obviously not, 'cause my dad woulda won," said Jane before her father could answer. She earned a withering glare from the older human.

The human girl stuck her tongue out at Garrus, probably meant to tease him. He mirrored the gesture, failing at it miserably and bringing a distinctly human smile to her face. Strangely, he liked the way it looked on her, revealing teeth like shiny white jewels. It reminded him of an asari, but less pretentious. And her eye-color was downright intriguing. And the girl's mane made her appear regal, the way it fell and flowed over her shoulders like the headdress worn by a warrior-princess from the history books. And what a waist, even for a girl her age- _Why in the name of the Spirits am I thinking about her like this?_ he thought, _I am such a weirdo. Well Dad _did _say they were people too... _

"We did fight, actually," said the male human, "towards the end. Kind of. About halfway through the occupation I decided to escape, so I did that and linked up with the military resistance movement in the highlands. When we got word that the Alliance was pushing the Hierarchy from orbit, we assaulted their base here, along with the camp." He looked to Kaius.

"While the humans were routing us, we were trying to evacuate." said the senior turian, "The camp was their first destination, and our most important stronghold. They needed to go there first, because freeing their soldiers and marines would give them ten times the manpower on ground, all while their ships were still busy battling it out in space."

"Yes, that's an accurate assessment," said the human.

"That's what I would have done and why I would have done it," agreed Kaius.

"We laid siege to the camp," said Alan, "the Alliance wasn't going to bomb them with our people in there... And they weren't willing to leave because of what they'd already seen our civilians doing to them in the streets. Eventually, your father and I met up somewhere neutral, a literal middle-ground, and we talked things out over drinks like we'd done when I was a POW. We brokered a cease-fire deal and shook hands. That's where the picture is from."

Kaius chuckled to himself, patting the other man on the back "We kicked the humans out of their cells and we climbed inside. We got to keep our guns, though."

"Really?" asked Jane, "That doesn't seem like a smart idea."

"Sure it does," said her father, "what were they going to shoot at from inside a prison? We had a huge barrier fencing them in and the entire ground was mined with explosives except for one entry-and-exit point. It was only for a week and a half anyway. After that, the war-"

"What's that?" asked Kaius, looking to his human companion.

There was a rumbling sound and shouts in the distance. The marine felt the ground vibrating under his feet. "I don't know, but I don't like it," he said.

The human's omni-tool beeped out a strange melody, vying for his attention above the ever increasing sound of the disturbance. Pushing a button on the haptic interface with one of his five fingers, he accepted the call.

"_Alan, where are you?! Where's my daughter?! I just heard from S-2 that there's a riot going on!"_

"Hannah, are you sure?" he asked, taking Jane's hand and nodding to Kaius. The four of them started back the way they came. "We're in New Taiyuan now and-"

"_You need to get out of there!_" the comm screamed, "_I-_" Static filled the comm.

"Shit," he growled. His omni-tool still worked, but he no longer had a connection to his wife.

In the distance, Kaius saw smoke billowing from the industrial center of town, gradually making its way to the commercial district. The growing clamor of indistinct noises became a chorus of yells, smashing glass, air-car signal horns, and just about everything imaginable that could produce a loud commotion. He turned his head just in time to miss getting hit with a flaming bottle of alcohol.

"We need to get to the consulate," he said, "Now."

The four of them moved as fast as they could, dodging the odd brick or bottle, starting at a dead sprint, but devolving to a jog as hundreds of meters began to pile up. Jane's pace slowed first, her muscles not quite up to the job that the males' were. Both Alan and Kais took he by a hand and pulled her onward. After what seemed like hours, but lasted no more than minutes, the group reached the consulate and stumbled inside.

Jane fell to the floor panting, realization of having her life truly threatened for the first time finally starting to dawn on her. Her normally cheerful face splitting into a rictus fear and anguish, she began sobbing uncontrollably. Her father crouched down next to her, pulling her against his chest. "Why are they doing it Daddy, why?"

"I don't know Janie, I don't know," he said, looking to where his turian friend stood typing furiously, "but we'll find out. Do you remember some of your special powers? Your biotics?"

"No..." she sobbed.

He couldn't tell if she was serious of just terrified, "Try to remember, Janie. On your feet," he said, pulling her up, "Stay close to the boy. I need to talk to Kaius."

"Dad!" called Garrus, realization of his missing mother and sister having hit him like a speeding dreadnaught. He ran up to his father as he typed away on a terminal, "Mom! Sol-!"

"I know, I know!" He said, looking to his son and noticing people running to the front doors as the did so, "what do you think I'm trying to do here?"

Alan and Jane approached the duo, catching the tail-end of the exchange, "If we're going to get the rest of your family, we're going to need guns. If we stay here, same thing," said the male human.

Kaius nodded and held out a key card, saying "Second floor, room two-five-two." He was about to turn back to his typing, but something seemed amiss. More and more people ran to the front doors of the consulate. "Garrus, take a look at what's going on out there," he called to his son.

"And take Janie with you," added Alan, on his way to the stairs.

Garrus nodded to both men and grabbed the girl's hand, the pair of them rushing off to the entrance of the consulate.

Within seconds the senior Vakarian had access to the consulate's secure transmitter and had loaded Niva's number into the system. Offering a silent prayed to the Spirits, he hit 'send.'

"_Hello? Kaius, where are you? Where's my son?_" came the tearful greeting.

Alan cocked his head at the awfully familiar words. Some things just transcended the species barrier.

"He's fine, we're at the consulate with my human friends," he replied, "I'm more worried about you!"

"_Yeah, well, be sure to thank your human friends for this mess... That was rude, I'm sorry, but it's just crazy what they're doing to their own city! They- Look- We're- We're heading to the roof for evac. I think they're taking us to an Alliance base._"

"Okay," he grumbled, his impatience bleeding through sub-harmonics, "Where in Spirits names are you being evac'd from?"

"_We're at a shopping mall and they've sealed off the doors to the outside. Nothing short of a tank is getting in. What about you? Has the Hierarchy dispatched a shuttle-_"

Silence.

"Niva?" he asked, checking the terminal, "Niva, you there, honey?"

"Dad! Dad! They're breaking through!" yelled Garrus, Jane on his back, running as fast as he could. "They're destroying everything!"

Alan returned with the weapons just in time to survey the scene. Jane looked absolutely petrified with fear, crying and unresponsive to anything around her. It took three swift jerks and prying his daughter's fingers from the boys fringe before Alan managed to pick her up off of Garrus and place her around himself, handing him a small pistol in return. He then tossed one of the two avenger assault rifles he carried to Kaius and waited.

The older turian caught the weapon and cursed. They'd probably felled the secure transmission dish, or smashed a signal junction-box. "We need to make for the roof and wait for rescue," he said.

Following Kaius' lead, the group raced up the stars, adrenaline and fear helping them to make good time against the crowd of malignant humans pouring inside. The cracks, whistles, and pings of gunfire invaded their ears even against their pounding heartbeats and breathless gasps.

"Daddy," Jane whispered into his ear, her tears splashing his face as he bounded up the steps, "They- They screamed at me, called me a bug-loving whore-" she gasped for breath then released a long, painful wail. The man's grip tightening around his daughter's thighs and she continued, "They said they would fix me..."

Alan felt one of his teeth crack, he clenched his jaw so hard. "Looks like there's some racism to this, Kaius. At least as far as the ones here are concerned. Explains why they're trying to 'loot' a consulate."

"I guess we're not gonna talk anyone down from anything this time, old friend," he replied, kicking open the door to the roof just as an air-car pulled away.

"No, probably not," agreed Alan, following the turians onto the roof. He turned to look down the stairs behind him and saw nothing, meaning at lest a few minutes reprieve before anyone else made it to the roof. He would have barred the door closed, were that not an automatic death sentence for any turians unlucky enough to have not yet escaped.

Setting Jane down, he joined Kaius at the ledge after once again putting his daughter in the temporary custody of the turian boy.

Hazy smoke-filled skies above, raging fires below, throngs of people crowding the streets, destroying everything in sight; the scene was chaos incarnate. From ten stories above the devastation, the pair could see that the majority of the violence wasn't directed at turians or any other race, it was centered on the commercial district. Retail stores and the occasional bank looked like gutted beetle carcasses from this height, looters were swarms of ants, rushing inside to pick the exoskeletons clean before scurrying off to their anthills, prizes slung over their backs.

"I'll guard the door," said Alan, "You try to flag someone down."

"Right," he said, "So what's this about? Why are they taking the consulate?"

"The riot? I'm not sure," he replied, "as for the consulate, I think it's a bunch of racists, still upset about the First Contact War, taking advantage of the chaos and confusion."

The sounds of approaching rioters grew closer, not from below, where they already milled about the base of the consulate, but from inside the building. The confines of the stairwell amplified the noise, distorted it into weird howls and screeches, making it impossible to tell how many floors remained until the lynch mob was on the roof.

Alan and Kaius exchanged glances and took up firing positions in the best available cover.

Garrus had Jane next to him in a corner, behind an old air conditioning unit, a position that was ideal for concealment, cover, and a quick escape if necessary. Weapon in hand and aimed at the door, he looked to the human girl, who appeared to be on the edge hyperventilation, a mental breakdown, or both simultaniously.

"How old are you?" asked Garrus.

"T- twelve." she managed to say.

She was young, younger than Garrus would have thought. The same age as Solana... Garrus couldn't help but compare the two girls, to think about what he would do and say if were his sister here.

"Don't look at them," he told her, trying to add soothing sounds to his voice and failing, "don't look at the door, or any of what happens, just look at me. I'll keep you safe, I promise."

She nodded and closed her eyes. When she opened them she looked better, but still terrified.

Garrus frowned to himself. He really did like seeing the human version of a smile on this girl. He would give anything in the galaxy to have that back right now. Spirits help those that had taken it away from her.

The noise grew louder, and louder still, materializing into screams, shouts, and gunfire as the mob neared the door. At the last possible instant, they heard a turian voice, a cry for help, clear and sharp above the clamor.

The door burst open, a shot rang out, a muzzle flash visible from deep within the stairwell. A single turian fell to the ground, landing just outside the doorframe. Another turian followed him out, tripping over his unmoving body.

Seeing nothing but a human with a raised weapon behind the fallen pair, Alan opened up on the man, cutting him in half with countless rounds of accurate fire. As if waiting to see if his human companion would authorize the killing of his own kind, Kaius joined in the fray, spraying the doorway and stairwell with even more bullets.

When nothing more remained moving, Alan and Kaius exchanged nods and leapt over their barriers. The human shouldered his weapon to grab the downed turians, one with each hand, and drag them to safety. The senior Vakarain stood to the side of the doorway and cover the length of the visible stairwell.

Though badly injured, it appeared that the two turians were stable for the moment. Alan cut his thick jacket into strips and fashioned make-shift compression bandages for the pair, leaving only his tan, short-sleeved dress shirt to cover his chest. Although it didn't appear that the two unfortunate consulate workers were in danger of bleeding out any longer, he couldn't be sure. Their blue blood almost perfectly matched the color of his sacrificial coat, and they weren't conscious to contribute their opinions.

"More coming, Alan!" yelled Kaius.

The human finished tending to the pair of workers, propping their feet up on a raised ledge, and rushed to his friend's side. "Aim carefully," he said, "it doesn't look like these things can fire too many times before overheating."

"They can't," agreed the turnain.

The door swung open to reveal more humans, three visible in the doorway, countless more behind them. All were armed, but none had their weapons leveled, whether they carried knives, clubs, or guns.

"Drop your weapons!" screamed the former turian military police officer, "Do it! Do it now!"

"He said drop 'em!" seconded the marine.

"Daddy! Just kill them!" yelled Jane, drawing the crowd's attention to her.

"Fine, we'll drop 'em," said one of the humans, taking a step closer to Alan and Kaius. He let his knife fall to the ground. The other humans did likewise.

"Kick the weapons to us!" said the turian, and they complied, although some half-heartedly. "Get on the ground! All of you, on your stomachs! Palms facing up!"

One by one, the more than dozen humans did as they were told.

"I'll go get the weapons, cover me," said Alan, getting a nod of approval from his friend.

At seeing her father approach the group, Jane screamed, beside herself with fear. She knew a bad situation when she saw one. "Just _kill them_, Daddy!" She begged him at the top of her lungs, "They're dangerous and it's _safer_! Please, Daddy, please, don't go there..."

Ignoring his daughter, idly hoping that her pleas would, if nothing else, put the fear into these human-supremacists that he might actually take her up on the suggestion. Walking from one end of the group to the other, he picked up their weapons and threw them off the roof, one at a time. A gun here, a knife there, a section of metal pipe, someone had even decided that a hand-held vacuum cleaner was a perfectly reasonable weapon to bring to a riot. When he reached the last weapon, and chucked it over the edge, he was greeted by the roar of an Alliance gunship.

"Alan!"

"Kaius!"

Both men turned briefly to see their wives calling down at them from the gunship's open troop-door, their voices somehow carrying over the roar of hot jet-wash. The gunship lowered to the roof, hovering as close as possible without risk of crashing.

"Get the kids!" said Alan, pushing his turian comrade in their direction, "I'll cover you!"

Whether it was the human's command voice, or the authority projected by his distinguished-looking uniform and white peaked cap, the turian didn't argue. He scooped up Jane and his son, carrying them over to the waiting craft.

Kauis held Jane aloft while both mothers and Solana reached down to him, closing half the two-meter gap with their arms.

"What about Dad?!" the human girl cried as he lifted her, "Get him! Save him!" She started hitting the senor Vakarian about the shoulders, a slight blue aura surrounding her, making her blows more noticeable than expected.

Hannah and Niva grabbed her, pulling her up and onto the aircraft. Jane's mother held her close before pushing her into a jump-seat, keeping her well out of the way of the ongoing rescue. Garrus was next, the heavier boy gratefully accepted by his mother, sister, and the human woman. The C-Sec officer then lifted the two downed office workers up, and they too were secured aboard.

"Alan, are you ready?!" asked Kauis, "Make a run for it and I'll cover you!"

"No," Alan called back, "I'm here, covering them, and you're already there! Just climb on and I'll cover them myself!"

Although he really didn't like it, he had to agree that the human had a point. He secured the weapon to his back and took a running leap, the deck of the gunship slamming into his abdomen. With the help of a few hand-holds and those aboard, he was able to leverage himself inside.

"I'm up!" he called to the marine, "now get over here!"

Alan began stepping backwards, keeping the lynch-mod face down and covered under the barrel of his rifle. Every few steps, he would glance behind himself, checking to make sure that his path remained clear.

Halfway to the gunship, he turned to glance down again and fell to his knees, the sound of a gunshot registering only as he hit the ground. Then more gunfire, this time from the gunship as Kaius sent a dozen rounds in the direction of one of the prone humans, a man who had been keeping a handgun in his pocket the entire time. He disintegrated into a pile of wet meat at the hands of the vengeful turian. The mob initially scattered at the shots, unsure of what to do, before one of them pointed to the fallen marine. Deducing that they would be safe from gunfire with a human shield, they charged the man. Kaius only managed to take out two of them before they were dangerously close to his friend.

Alan saw the group coming and braced himself for the brutal savaging. His left foot shot out from under him and only still attached by some threads of his dress sock, there was no way he could make it to the airship in time. The howl of the vehicle's engines, the screams of the mob, his wife, and above all, his daughter... It was almost enough to drown out the pain and disappointment he felt in what he knew were going to be his last moments. Like a pathetic, wounded animal, he turned on his hands and knees began crawling, dragging himself away from the crowd, leaving a trail of slick red blood behind him.

They were on him in a flash, the first blow hammering at the back of his head, knocking it to the ground, bouncing it off of cold stone. Mercifully, he lost consciousness, spared the agony that followed.

"Daaadyyy!" screamed Jane, blue light shimmering and washing over her. She reached for Kaius' weapon, but he shrugged her off.

"He's too close. We'll kill him too, girl," he said.

Seeing the attackers swarm and batter his friend, and left with no other recourse, Kaius dove off the airship with a roar of pure hatred, putting both sets of vocal cords to good use. He managed to tuck-and-roll, landing right in the middle of the fray. Straddling the marine, he reached for his weapon, but a blow landed on him before he could expand it. Then another. And another. A fourth almost contacted his face, but he found it halted in mid-flight by a set of brightly manicured talons.

"Niva?" he asked through hazy eyes, using words that sprayed a filthy blue mist.

The woman twisted the arm she caught around it's owner's back, dislocating it at the shoulder. That was enough time for Kaius to bring his weapon to bear on the mob. They stood back, hands held up in defense.

Jane sat crumpled on the floor of the gunship, leaning against Garrus, only giving out the most inarticulate of sobs and moans, unwilling to even open her eyes against the fear of having to watch her father being beaten to death.

The turian boy motioned for his sister to take his place at comforting the human girl. She nodded and pulled Jane, a small alien girl she'd never met before, against her and started stroking her head. She whispered soft turian comfort words into her ear, not knowing if they'd ever mean anything to her.

Garrus leapt from the craft as his father and mother had done, joining them by the fallen marine. Together, the husband and wife held the mob at bay, while their son stabilized and dragged the unconscious human to the ship. Nearing the ledge, Kaius collapsed his weapon to help his son lift the man, one of the gunship's crew having to come assist the fallen marine.

Garrus climbed aboard next, coming to rest at the human girl's side as she cradled her father as best she could, trying not to get in the way of the crew's first aid attempts.

To Garrus, the man didn't look good. He was breathing, that much he could tell for sure, but it was soft and labored. Red blood dripped from his mouth, nose, and strange crested ears, the latter also producing a clear fluid to mix with its blood. The whites of his eyes had filled in with red, the same shade as his blood. His eye sockets had darkened and his skin was even paler than before.

Garrus wanted to hold the girl, to tell her everything was going to be fine, that her father would be fine. He so _badly _wanted to lie to her and have it be true. At seeing what she went though, imagining himself in her shoes and his father dying in front of him... Yes, watching a human die was no different than watching a turian. He blinked moisture from his eyes and held the girl. He could do nothing more.

As the next most injured, Kaius climbed aboard, leaving his wife to cover the crowd of humans. There was precious little he could do for Alan, too unsure of his physiology to assist the man's wife or the Alliance crew. From the gunship, he covered his wife's retreat, just as he had done with his friend, hoping this time it would go better. He had yet to search the mob, and there was at least one handgun still floating about. Hopefully, seeing their comrade looking like a squashed fruit might discourage them from further action.

"No!" he heard Jane scream, "No! No! Noooo!"

"Garrus, Sol, control her!" he bellowed, not taking his eyes from the crowd.

"We can't Dad!" his son said, "Her father stopped breathing, and now she's glowing!"

His wife turned from the crowd.

The mob charged her.

She jumped.

The human child entered his periphery.

He caught his wife's hand.

The mob scraped at her heels, one grabbing onto a talon.

He heard Jane scream again.

"**_I'll kill you all!_**"

...

"What happened?" the human girl asked, rubbing her eyes, "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital," Garrus told her, "Everything went blue around you and those other humans, and then they went flying. Some off the building, some into other things, some into... Into each other..." He shuddered at the memory. "I don't think any of them lived. You- you saved my mom, so, thank you."

"I- I don't remember anything," said the girl, shaking her head, "Where- where- Dad!" She flung the white sheet off her in a fit, not bothering to tie her hospital gown around her as she stormed out of the room and into the hallway.

"Janie!" Garrus called after her, getting out of his chair and following her, "I'll take you to him, come with me."

He took hold of her hand and led her down the corridor, passing room after room. Finally he stopped at one not unlike any other. Inside was the turian woman from the gunship with the boy's sister on her lap. Standing next to a hospital bed was mister Kaius. He was looking down at a large mound of tubes, wires, and sheets that someone had piled there. Sitting in a chair next to the pile was her mother, looking at her with moist eyes, bloodshot from long bouts of crying.

"Janie, you shouldn't be here," she managed to choke out through renewed sobbing.

"Where's Dad?" she asked her mother. She looked to the turian boy, thinking perhaps she'd been lied to or he'd been mistaken. He looked impassive, giving no hint of any expression that she could recognize.

"_Where's Dad_?" she asked her mother again. Her only response was a sob. All eyes in the room looked to her. Something bad was going on, something she didn't understand, and she didn't like the feeling.

"_I said where's Dad, you fucks!_" she screamed. Teeth clenched, chest heaving, she felt awash in fear and anger.

Her mother looked down at her own hand. Jane followed her eyes. The older woman was holding something, although she couldn't tell what. She stepped closer, searching for a better view of what her mother was gripping so tightly.

A hand.

A human hand.

Her _father's_ hand, attached to the mound of tubes and wires.

A mound that she now realized _was_ her father.

"_**Nooo!**_"

...

"My God, Shepard, I'm _so_ sorry you lost your dad like that," said Kasumi, holding Jane's head against her chest, stroking her cheek in between the woman's soft sobs.

"Brain dead," said Jane, through struggling breaths, "not _dead_-dead. That didn't come until later. Until just before Torfan. I'll tell you about that, but not now."

Kasumi nodded, and as Jane reached for Garrus, she released the Spectre.

"C'mon, Garrus," she said, "Lets get some sleep."

Jane turned back to her, just as she reached to door. "I didn't find out until much later that the riot was caused by some stupid court case," she said softly, "all that because some criminal scum got off on a technicality."

**Please Review.**

**Fav and Follow if you liked it.**

**A reminder that this story is part of my Warrior Ethos series, so you may want to check that out. **

**I will definitely be doing more of these Jane/Garrus fics, including the one that explains Torfan in detail.**


	3. Thorn Within

**Okay, so, this one took me a while to write because it includes some very difficult subject matter. It's downright disturbing, and this story earns its "M" rating with this chapter. I highly recommend that if you are in the least bit sensitive to violence, or just don't like the idea of Jane Shepard commenting war-crimes on Torfan, that you just read until the the start of the second flashback then go no further.**

**In the Warrior Ethos universe, Torfan is a habitable planet that pirates are operating from, not a moon. I made this change to address a question I had; namely why the Alliance sent in marines in rather than laying siege to the place through and embargo or blockade (or just bombing it into oblivion). Typically one only uses ground troops when a level of precision is needed, like when there might be a civilian presence.**

Chapter 3: Thorn Within

"I really enjoyed dinner," said Garrus, bouncing Janie in his arms under the watchful gaze of her mother, "But I never expected it to be like that." when he set her down, the girl clung to his casual suit jacket in an attempt to climb the turian, gaining purchase with a foot in his pocket before deciding it was too much effort.

"I don't think any of us did," said Jane from behind her desk, pouring herself an overgenerous portion of bourbon whiskey from a bottle she stored in a drawer. Glass and decanter in hand, she brought it with her down the steps, Liara's eyes separating themselves from her daughter to follow the Spectre as she entered the living-room area.

The human claimed the seat on her couch next to her boyfriend, on the opposite side of the asari. Janie climbed off the man's lap and planted herself in her fathers, moving to inspect the item she held. "You can't have this," said the human, taking a sip, "It's something that your mum- err, dad- drinks."

"So, I know we talked about this earlier, but you are okay with joint custody?" asked Liara.

"Okay with it?" Jane was taken aback. "I think it's perfect. Heck, you should get a house next to one I buy when this collector business is all over."

"Oh, that would be perfect," said Liara, clapping her hands together, "We could even get a place together. I've been looking into some more spacious real-estate on Illium and you're welcome to move in with me." She glanced over at Garrus.

Jane followed her eyes and smiled at the turian. "Next to," she said, "Next to is fine."

"Oh, okay," the asari said, looking crestfallen.

That was just too damn bad for her. _Jane Shepard buys her own fucking houses_, she thought,_ And you're welcome to buy one next to my future estate in Broughton, if you can afford it._

"What- Well, What about religion?" the human asked, "I have to admit that that one's been bugging me."

"I've been raising her in the human Christian faith," the asari said carefully, "I thought that's what you would have wanted. I even had her baptized on my vacation to Earth."

"I'm very grateful, thank you," Jane said as she stroked her daughter's back, "Yes, that is what I would have wanted. What about your goddess worship?"

"It doesn't matter to me," admitted the other woman, still glowing at the praise and thanks offered by her one-time lover, "I never had much faith."

"Okay, so which Christian faith is it?"

"There's more than one?"

"Over ten thousand, although the fact that she was baptized narrows it down."

"I see. I'll have to get back to you."

"Alright, well you do that," said Jane, "How about we get Kelly up here so you can meet her?"

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," the asari replied.

...

"Miss Chambers, you certainly have a way with children," said Liara, "I've never seen Junior this happy with anyone but me, Jane, and her grandparents."

"Thanks, Liara," Kelly's smile lit the room, her demeanor as cheerful as ever. She sat on the floor near Jane's dresser with Janie, a pile of toys she had purchased strewn about the floor in front of her. "You two have such a beautiful daughter."

"You really think she's happy around me?" the Spectre asked Liara quietly.

"Of course," said the asari, reaching over Garrus to place her hand on the other woman's thigh, "Why would you ever ask that? She jumps for you whenever she gets close, and only the happiest woman in the galaxy stands a chance of tearing her away for even a second. I'm just boring old mom, but you're the fun hero-dad."

"Can I be mom, too?" Jane asked, giving a half-smile, "Dad still sounds kinda weird."

"Of course," she replied.

"But..." Jane looked away and slowly shook her head, "I don't know. That's fine for now, but how long until I screw up my daughter? Don't you think I might turn her into another me? Lord knows the universe doesn't need another Jane Shepard who acts like Jane Shepard."

Out of the corner of her eye, Liara caught the Yeoman's head perking up.

"I don't think that will happen," she replied, "From, well, from my meld with your brother I can tell-"

"Stop," interrupted Jane, her mood suddenly shifting. She brushed the asari's hand away and stood up, "Just stop. I know where this is going and I don't need to hear it."

She picked up her drink and began pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed like a tigress trapped in a cage. She halted long enough to down the liquor and pour herself another before continuing on her rapid march to nowhere.

Kelly pulled the Spectre's daughter into her lap. Both women, young and young-at-heart, looked up at the Spectre in confusion. Jane gnawed at her lower lip in between sips from her glass, her hands shaking so badly that not even when working in unison could they steady the tumbler enough to prevent the expensive alcohol from staining the carpet. Her eyes rapidly scanned left and right, as if looking for some unseen attacker. She was afraid, very afraid.

"D-Do you know?" she rounded on the woman, slamming her drink on the coffee table and clenching her fists, "Do you know... Because he knows?! _Does he know what I did?!_"

The mix of aggression and terror in her voice was enough to start her daughter crying. From Kelly's lap Janie reached to her asari mother and Liara was at her side in an instant, bending down to scoop up the girl.

"I don't know what happened," the older asari said, stroking her daughter's head. She made series of shushing noises to the clinging child. That, combined with the sudden silence of the ashamed human, seemed to quiet Janie down for the time being. "But I do know why you did it," continued Liara, "You went through a rough period with Johnny and your father that destroyed your world-"

Jane would have screamed, were it not for her daughter's presence. "I said stop it. A simple 'no' would have been fine," she hissed with a venom she rarely used with anyone that was expected to be alive at the end of the day. Being the mother of her child has its perks, it seemed.

"And that won't happen with Junior," finished Liara, her glare letting the other woman that she wasn't in the least bit intimidated. She sat back down on the couch, taking Janie with her.

Seeing Garrus, the girl crawled herself over to her favorite alien, whereupon he picked her up and resumed playing with her.

"You don't know shi-" the Spectre stopped herself mid sentence, "Anything. You don't know anything. I've done terrible things. God awful things and I don't want her to be any part of that. It doesn't matter how I was raised. What matters is the way I am now and what it might do to her."

"You're right," interjected Kelly, still sitting on the ground, "That is what matters now. And nothing you've done since I've met you will make me believe that you'll be a bad parent. Quite the contrary; you're not even using profanities anymore."

"With all due respect, Yeoman," said Jane, trying to control her temper, "You don't know me or what I'm like."

"Maybe not," admitted the petite redhead, "But this whole discussion is kind of irrelevant, don't you think?"

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"She means that you're a mother whether you like it or not," Garrus said nonchalantly. Kelly nodded in his direction and Liara gave a breezy smile. He continued, "You're going to be there for her no matter what, you know that, and so will I. If you think you need help learning how to be good at it, there are plenty of willing people and resources all around you."

Kelly nodded again. "And that might mean seeking outside help in non-parenting matters as well. Maybe someone to talk to-"

"I'm not talking to some damn head-doctor, sorry," interrupted Jane.

"It doesn't have to be me," said Kelly, taking no offense, "I understand John recently met up with Ashley Williams on Horizon. She was a source of religious and moral guidance for you and the crew of the old _Normandy_ if I'm not mistaken."

"Well yeah, Johnny tried to get her back," Jane said, "but she had other commitments. She said we could stop by any time, though. And I've been meaning to call her."

"That's a fantastic idea," Kelly said brightly, getting up and walking to the other woman, "I think you should do that as soon as possible."

Dejected, the Spectre turned away from her and walked over to the couch. Taking a seat next to her daughter and her boyfriend, she started playing with the child. Liara too joined the fun, the group engaging in a four way game of peek-a-boo. Somehow Janie knew that the recent turian and human arrivals in her life were more than friendly strangers, more than mere friends or close relatives even. She had gone from having one parent to three, and she couldn't have been more delighted.

After a few minutes together in joyful bliss, the Spectre become somber and reached for her boyfriend's hand. Doing her one better, he wrapped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her in close, holding both of her hands against her chest. She sighed and leaned into his plated, muscular chest.

She glanced to Liara and Kelly, then settled her eyes on her daughter. "I told Garrus a few days ago that I'd fill him in on Torfan," she said, "and how I became that person..."

...

"How's he doing?" Jane asked the doctor in flat monotone as she walked into his office. In her left hand dangled her traditional monthly offering, a bouquet of lilies, white carnations, and purple hyacinths.

"I'm sorry Staff Lieutenant," he replied, looking up from a data-pad, "there were no complications from the new treatment, but there is still minimal brain activity, although we did see a short blip on the monitor the other day. The attending nurse swears he moved a finger."

"Yeah, but I know better than to get my hopes up," she replied, scanning hospital's fifth floor general-care ward , "It's been two years. If he's still a vegetable after this long, he's gonna stay that way."

"Well, I wouldn't be so-"

"Can I see him?" she cut him off with a hand, not in the mood to get lectured on she talked about her own damn family.

"Of course," he replied, "You know the room."

She nodded and took her leave, the flowers dropping pollen as they swung with her arm. It was the seventh door on the right, she remembered. The same as last month. They hadn't moved him in over a year. Everything about the room looked the same. The constant deliveries of get-well-soon cards had dwindled to nothing after the first two months, once it became apparent that that wasn't going to be happening. There had been hundreds sent and the best of them lined the walls and shelves.

At one point the room had been full of flowers as well. Their scent had almost been enough to overpower the stink of antiseptic an hospital food. Now there were only two vases left; one maintained by Jane on a monthly basis and one by her mother even less often. Both were empty at the moment, their contents having died a fortnight prior.

She took her vase and filled it from the room's sink and plopped the flowers inside, returning it to the nightstand shared by the pair of hospital beds. The marine pulled up a chair next to one of the beds and took a seat, letting herself fall hard into the comfortable piece of furniture.

She always hated this part. She never knew what to say. Never knew if she needed to say anything at all, really. The doctors had all said he couldn't hear her. If that was true, then why did she even bother visiting him? She didn't know. Guilt had a funny way of making people do pointless things.

She bent over to look at him, thinking that perhaps the nurse had actually seen something, that the experimental treatment might have helped. He looked the same as he had two years ago, save for a civilian haircut and a short beard and mustache combination. She smiled to herself. He had always wanted that, but his grooming preferences had given way to the military lifestyle. She brushed his hair out of his eyes, opening one of them with a thumb and forefinger. Nothing. The treatment had failed. She was glad she had never bothered to get her hopes up.

With a sigh, she adjusted the light blue ribbon around his neck and centered its medal. It had fallen down into his armpit again, and none of the nurses seemed to give a God damn about it no matter how many times she told them how important it would have been to him. Jane herself may not have given a crap about the decoration either, but Johnny would have been so proud of it. The UNAS Army meant the world to him, so that's why she kept it here with him, not in some display case on a wall, but around his neck where it belonged.

"We've made some headway in punitive expedition," she said softly, reaching over to hold his hand in hers, "We're hitting the blinks hard, cleaning them out of the Verge completely and trying to do the same thing in a good chunk of the Terminus. In another week my company will be heading off for a major operation. I can't say much about it, opsec you know, but it will be big."

She sighed, leaning back in her chair and pulling his hand with her. Would she be like this forever? A daughter and sister in name only? How long would she continue to dedicate a portion of her life to sitting in a hospital room, mumbling to herself with two family members kept alive by feeding tubes? _As long as they're alive and so am I_, she thought.

"I'll get those bastards back for what they did to you, to us," she said before turning over her shoulder to the other patient in the room, "And we hit a Cerberus facility the other day, Dad. They were illegally manufacturing restricted weapons. None of those human-supremacist assholes survived. You'd be proud."

She turned back to her brother, rubbing the back of his hand with a thumb.

"So, I ran into Jennifer the other day. She wouldn't talk to me after last time," Jane said, looking away and speaking softly, "don't blame her myself. But her scars are healing nicely, and you'd hardly notice the limp. But what did she expect? I'm still here, so why can't she be? I got grandma's ring back at least, you dumb-arse. I told you, you should have waited. Mom is doing well," she continued, sounding more upbeat, "She'll be by when she can. Did you know she just got a promotion? There'll be an admiral in the family in no time."

She looked around the room, trying to come up with something more to say. She noticed his longer hair again.

"Oh! I cut my hair, see?" She ran her fingers through her new bob, making a show if it for the comatose man. "No, I guess you can't see. But our hairstyles match now. In length, anyway. But I think mine's nicer."

She lowered her head and chewed on her bottom lip, unsure if that was enough sharing of thoughts with someone who had none of his own. She gave a resigned shrug and placed his hand back on his chest. Turning her chair one-hundred eighty degrees, she scooted up to her father's bedside, ready to repeat the exact same 'conversation' she had just had with her brother.

As Jane was about to reach across him for his hand, a tone sounded. Loud, steady, and high-pitched, it forced her suddenly pounding heart into her throat. Wide-eyed and in disbelief, she stood up in a flash, knocking the chair against her brother's bed.

"_Code blue, fifth floor, room five twenty one_," the intercom sounded, "_Code blue, fifth floor, room five twenty one_."

"Daddy?"

...

"...And that was right before Torfan," she finished.

The room was in various states of shock, except for Janie and her human mother. The latter looked on in awe, unable to comprehend what was said, but fully aware of the sadness her mother's story provoked. Before anyone could issue any words of consolation, the Spectre held up a hand.

"As far as what actually happened on Torfan..."

...

"Please understand something for me," Jane said, putting a sway in her hips as she walked to the man, "You're still alive, not because you have any information, but because I'm allowing it."

Tied to a chair, the batarian man raised his head just enough to look at her then lowered it again. He said nothing and showed no other signs of movement. Blood slowly dripped from his mouth, landing on his thighs, staining the khaki pants of his casual duty uniform.

Jane crossed her hands over her chest and nodded to herself. She was going to have to demonstrate her sincerity. Part of her thought it was a pity, an unnecessary waste, while part of her relished in the thought. It filled her with nervous anticipation, but in a good way, like those few giddy moments between crawling into bed with a really good lover for the first time and getting down to business of making love.

She looked to the other batarian, also tied up, sitting to the man's left, an older female in a cleaner uniform with more decorations. She lifted up the woman's head by her chin, "You're the senior officer here. Equivalent to a full commander, yes?"

The woman locked eyes with her for a brief second but said nothing. Jane let her head fall.

"So you've got more information than this guy, right?" she asked, strolling around to the back of her chair, "So I can kill him, because he's expendable, and you're more valuable to be because of the information you've got, right? That's the thing that's supposedly keeping you alive right now?"

Jane kept moving, sidestepping, until she stood behind the male prisoner. The man's shaking intensified. He knew what was coming next. He held no illusions about survival at the hands of this butcher. He was too young to die, far too young, or so he must have thought. Judging by the tattoos on his wrists, he was married, possibly with kids. He clenched his bound hands together, shutting his eyes tight against the world around him.

"So you won't tell me what I want to know," she continued her monologue to the woman, "Because you figure that you'll lose that protection, and I'll kill you because after that, I have no use for you. But again, this guy's useless compared to you?"

A shot rang out. The man jerked his head, a sob merged with a scream as it escaped his lips. But he wasn't dead. He wasn't even any more injured than he had been a minute ago. He opened his eyes and looked around.

His commanding officer's face was gone. In its place, a hole the size of an ashtray leaked blood. One eye still remained, barely kept there by its broken orbit. Another eye dangled down like a pendulum by her exposed lower jaw, attached only by a few long nerve endings. Her remaining eyes, nose, upper jaw, and pallet were completely gone, now strewn about the floor in chunks, mixing with splattered blood. The bound man threw-up, vomit joining with the blood on his pants.

"That's so you believe me," Jane continued, "when I tell you that it isn't your information that's keeping you alive. It's me." She crouched down in front of the man, lifting his chin so she could look into all four of his eyes, each wet with terror. "And I give you my word that you'll live if you tell me what I want to know, and you'll die if you don't."

"Yeah," his chest heaved, his body wracked by sobs, "okay, okay," he made an incoherent noise, a combination of a snort and a moan, "yeah... I'll tell you."

"Good," she said, smiling wide enough to expose her gleaming-white teeth, "We know the batarian military is working with the insurgents, supplying them with the components for mass effect explosives."

The batarian said nothing, but looked up at her in terror. Most likely it was not because she had knowledge of that operation, but because she might try to force a confession out of him. He appeared to be deciding whether or not it was worth dying for.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, "I told you that we already know about it, and I mean it. Your confession is unnecessary. The Hegemony is isolationist to the point of insanity. There mere fact that you were captured here, in uniform no less, _idiot_, is enough of your intentions for me. No, I just want to know where the insurgents are assembling and storing their arms."

The man appeared to consider again whether to choose death or betrayal. She already knew which way he would fall. Sure, he may have had his orders, but in his mind, his life wasn't worth sacrificing for a bunch of unlawful enemy combatants who had rejected the protection of their government by moving away from their home systems.

"The pirates are-"

"Insurgents," she corrected him.

"Insurgents," he agreed, nodding, "They are in the town of _Alnaksaarya_. In a large tenement in the center of town."

"That's it?" she asked, "That's all you've got? No address? No grid coordinates or anything?"

"Yes, I swear," he said, pleading with his voice and eyes, "I've only ever ridden along, never been inside. I only went there once. I never got an address."

Jane looked at him hard, at the fear and sincerity written all over his face. She noticed the piss stain that traveled down his leg to a pool of urine around his chair. She could see the way his toes pressed against the floor, lifting his heels into the air. Yes, this man was telling the truth. She bent down to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek. An instant later, the side of his head exploded.

...

"Ma'am, this doesn't look right," said Mendez, scanning what amounted to a small village from the enclosed turret of his armored security vehicle. He adjusted the weapon system's optics and zoomed in on buildings an scurrying batarian civilians. "I don't see a single weapon anywhere, nothing that could be a safe-house or a base... Not a damn thing useful, really."

"Keep looking, LT," she said, a scowl on her face and fire in her eyes, "My methods are flawless." She had seen the look in that young batarian soldier's eyes. She knew damn well she had broken him. He might not have known exactly where the insurgents were hiding out, but he wasn't lying, either.

"Yes, Ma'am." The marine made a noise between a chuckle and a scoff.

"What was that?" she asked in a harsh voice, reaching behind her to grab at an armor plate on the man's thigh.

"Nothing, Ma'am!" he stuttered, "Just a cough."

"God damn right it was," she said, "Give me shit like that one more time and I'll find a new XO."

"Sorry, Ma'am," he said, before adding quickly, "Streets are clearing ahead. Something might be going on."

"Pull over!" She demanded, "Radio OPS and tell them we're taking fire. No casualties yet, but we're halting our patrol to sort it out."

The driver smirked at her and complied on both counts. The lead vehicle, immediately in front of them, got the message and stopped on the opposite side of the street, effectively blocking off the roadway to all traffic. Behind them, the other vehicles staggered themselves on alternating sides, establishing a cordoned section within the village's main residential block.

The staff lieutenant smiled and exited the vehicle as she heard her driver calling in the fraudulent status. That kind of dedication was exactly what she expected. Operations wouldn't believe it, and neither would her battalion commander were he not holed up in his tent, fretting over mounting losses, but they didn't have to. They only cared about two things. Getting results and covering their backsides. The call was recorded and that would serve to address the latter. She was about to take care of the former.

"Ma'am, OPS wants to know if they should get Bravo Company out here for support," called the driver over their comm.

"Hell no!" she called back, "We don't need those fucks here."

"Just checking," he replied, his smile evident in his voice.

"Hey, LT!" she called, turning back to the man climbing down from the turret, "Wait here with the vics. Also drivers and gunners stay. Everyone else on me. I'm gonna find one or two of these dodgy bastards and see if I can get anything out of them."

With two dozen or so of the marines around her, she approached nearest house and knocked on the front door. No one answered right away, but muffled noises and footfalls could be heard from the other side of the building's thin door and walls.

"Open this fucking door before I blow up the whole building!" she screamed, pounding on the door again.

The shuffling quickened, and shouts could be heard from within. Just as Jane pulled her shotgun from her back

, she heard the sounds of someone working the door's latch from the other side. Satisfied, she re-holstered the weapon. The door opened to a batarian woman in her mid-to-late twenties, but it was difficult to tell, given the hard life she must have led.

"I don't have a translator," she choked out softly, "I can't speak the human language."

Jane smiled, not at her, but at a young boy beside her, not more than ten years old, clinging to her dress. She signaled to her team, a finger pointing to the woman then a thumb violently gesturing back at her ASV. The kid would be less deceptive than the adult and taking his mother might help coerce him into talking. Besides, they could still interrogate the mom if questioning the child didn't pan out.

While she smiled serenely at the terrified child, a pair of marines to her left and right barged into the house and grabbed the woman by her upper arms. She screamed and and kicked out at them, naturally resisting the arrest. That was a big no-no. The larger of the two marines reacted by slamming her hard into a wall, bouncing her head against it while knocking all the wind out of her. He let go and she fell to the ground, accompanied by shattered wall-material and dazed beyond all reason.

Slowly, she opened her tearful eyes and moaned in despair. Upon seeing her stunned child, her first reaction was to raise her chest off the ground and half-crawl, half-drag herself to him with an outstretched hand. That constituted an escape attempt in Jane's book. She nodded to the large marine.

A swift boot caught the woman in the stomach as she crawled on all fours, causing her to give a brief, inhuman scream just before it was stifled by a series of dry heaves. A snapping noise filled the air as he had kicked her, the tell-tale sign of at least one broken rib. It was a good thing the civilians weren't getting much to eat around here or else the marines' footwear might have been covered in vomit by now.

The marine crouched down above the prostrate woman, pressing a heavy knee into her spine, eliciting a long and painful moan as the sharp ends of her broken ribs worked against her pulverized insides. Her wail deteriorated into a soft gurgling wheeze as he applied a set of flexible handcuffs to her wrists. He stood up, lifting her arms with him.

Unable to stand herself, the second marine lifted her ankles, and together the pair carried her past their commander. Finally broken from his stupor by the sight of his mother being taken, the young boy made a screaming, tearful rush for her. A third marine grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hoisted him into the air, pressing him against a wall. He kept wailing as the woman was unceremoniously dumped into small cargo hold of the waiting vehicle, its latch closing behind her.

"Get Terp over here," called Jane. Prompted by a shove, their interpreter scampered up to stand beside Jane, careful not to stand too close. Some weeks ago, the Alliance officer had to blacken one of her eyes to get that message across and the lessen had taken. One could never be too careful about batarians wandering to with arms reach in the middle of a warzone. Despite that, she actually liked the helpful little sixteen year old girl whose name she had never bothered to learn, which was why she had gotten off as lightly as she had.

When presented with the option of either using hand-held translators or live interpreters, the Alliance penny pinchers had determined that the latter was far less expensive. They could pay substandard batarian labor rates on twelve interpreters for one year, or one batarian for twelve years, for less than the cost of a single translator. They had also decided that working with the batarians would help to build understanding and foster trust between the two peoples.

As Jane understood it, the teenage girl had taken to helping the Alliance in an effort to earn money for her family. With a disabled mother and a dead father and older brother, she was the pair's only hope of not starving through the occupation. She could either work as an interpreter and risk death at the hands of the insurgency or make money selling her body to human marines outside of the forward operating base. Jane respected the girl for her decision.

"Tell the boy that if he doesn't shut up, he'll never see his mother again," said Jane. What she didn't say was that he could indeed keep quiet and he still wasn't going to see the woman again unless he dug her up one day.

The girl nodded meekly. "Please be quiet. No harm will come to you or your mother if you are quiet. Just do what they ask and you will see your mommy soon," she said softly, sounding like she was about to cry.

Jane groaned at Terp's overly emotional reaction and the words she had chosen. The Alliance officer would have preferred a more direct approach, but the boy became silent, and whatever it took to get the job done was fine with her. Technically, what she had said might not have been a lie.

"Ask him if he's seen anyone carrying guns or large boxes around here," She told their interpreter.

Nodding to the human, she turned back to the child. "Have you seen anyone carrying things like this?" asked the girl, pointing the staff lieutenant's collapsed weapon. Jane turned a bit so he could get a better look. "Or large boxes?"

The boy mumbled something through tearful sobs, something which Jane's translator couldn't pick out. By the confused look of the interpreter, she couldn't understand it either. The Alliance officer raised a hand to slap the crying child.

"Ma'am, please," said the girl, stepping in front of the child and looking up at the older woman with a earnest expression, "Let me try again. May I approach him?"

She must have known she would pay dearly for daring to try and stop Jane like she had. Ironically, the woman's level of respect for the girl rose another notch. She would still need another lesson on customs and courtesies around military officers, of course, and she wasn't going to get off as lightly this time. For the moment, Jane would humor her.

"Do it, Terp," said Jane. She motioned for the marine to set the child down. "Just make it quick."

"Yes, Ma'am," she said, deeply bowing her head, "Thank you-"

Jane's armored slap sent the girl's head sideways, the rest of her body following her to the ground. "What have I told you about thanking me?! Don't ever thank me you little cunt! I know what you're thinking, and it isn't about thanking me for anything I'm doing on this planet. So your either lying to me or a goddamned retard. Either way, I don't want to hear it."

"Of course, Ma'am," said the girl, picking herself up off the floor and rubbing her ear. Her hand came away bloody, probably due to a burst eardrum.

"Now go talk to him before I change my mind," said Jane, adding, "And don't think that little love-tap is gonna cover you for thinking you're entitled to an opinion of how I handle my interrogations."

"Yes, Ma'am, I understand," she replied before turning to the terrified child on bended knee. "Please, you must tell me what you've seen," she whispered to him, taking his shaking hands in hers. She wiped his tears from his cheeks and beneath his eyes. "Tell me or you'll never see your mommy again. You need to get a hold of yourself for her. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded, lifting his hand and pointing an outstretched finger to the marine next to Jane.

"What is it?" the interpreter asked. She noticed the weapons he carried on his back. "Is that the weapon you saw?" She looked up at the man, addressing him, "Sir, would it be okay if you turned around so he can point it out?"

The marine glanced at his commander, who nodded. He faced away from the group, displaying the collapsed assortment of weapons on his back.

Terp hefted the boy in her arms and slowly approached the marine from behind. "Point at what you saw," she said to him.

Doing as he was asked, the child picked out one of the weapons, resting his index finger on in.

"Well, bugger all, those filthy bastards have rocket launchers," said Jane, running her fingers through her short red hair. "Take the brat outside and have him point to where they took them."

The girl nodded and carried the boy outside. "Please tell me, point for me, at the place you saw them carrying those things."

The boy pointed to a house across the street and down the road, at the edge of their vehicular perimeter.

"Ask him if they were leaving the place or going inside," said Jane as she idly checked her fingernails for grime.

"Were they leaving that house?" the girl asked.

He shook his head.

"Going inside?"

He nodded.

Jane smiled. Now it was time for the test. Taking advantage of the ignorance of youth like she was about to do was pretty unfair, she had to admit, but at least she would get an honest answer. Aliens without translators only heard gibberish when humans spoke, and children always assumed that if they could not understand what a person said, then neither could that person understand them. "Ask him if he wants to kill all the humans in the galaxy."

Terp set the boy down and tightly embraced him. When she let go, tears were streaming from her eyes and there was a fresh wet spot on the boy's sweater from where she had been pressing her face. She looked up to Jane, her expression pleading. The human was impassive. She turned back to the boy, her eyes boring into his, her pleading expression only intensifying.

She swallowed hard and choked out the question. "D-Do you..." she sobbed and brought a hand to briefly cover her mouth, at the same time wiping at her sniffling nose, "Do you want- want to k-kill the humans?"

The boy's head shot up to the aliens around him, aliens who were all facing away from him, scanning their surroundings and appearing to not be paying the slightest bit of attention to the two batarians in their midst. He looked back to the girl but she had turned away too, crying her eyes out. "Yes!" he shouted, "They're bad! They took my daddy from me and now my mommy..." His crying returned in force, drowning out his words.

Terp uttered a sharp wail at hearing his answer.

"You see?" Jane said to everyone around her, walking up to stand over the boy and unholstering her pistol. He looked up to her just as she angled the weapon down on the top of his head. He was too stunned to do anything but stand there, paralyzed in fear. "Violence begets violence. One day he might grow up and decide to blow himself up in the presidium's human district along with twenty innocent people. Best we just end the cycle here."

She pulled the trigger.

...

"So what's the total, XO?" she asked Mendez, sauntering up to stand by his side.

He looked down at his data-pad and then to her. "We've recovered three crates of Alliance man-portable air-defense systems, plus five loose ones. A total of fifty two small arms, ten of which are light machine guns, twenty-seven command-detonated mass effect explosive devices, thirteen-"

"I get it," she said, "A lot of stuff they can use to kill our guys, including three crates of our missile launchers they stole. Looks like this is the cell that raided FOB Churchill." She smiled broadly. A handful of marines had died defending that place, and twice as many had suffered amputations resulting from combat injuries.

"How many of these bastards surrendered?" she asked.

"Fifteen," he replied, "All of them we encountered."

Jane was confused by that before recalling that her unit was actually in Bravo company's battle-space and these particular blinks probably had no idea she was the Butcher of Torfan. Their sister-company had made their reputation by cooperating with the locals and treating their prisoners fairly and in accordance with galactic law-of-war. A fat lot of good it had done them. These bastards were operating right under their noses. Fifteen dead batarians in exchange for half-a-dozen marines? She could live with that kill-ratio.

"Line them up in front of the house," she told her executive officer, nodding at the building, "Don't waste the heavy weapon ammo on them."

He nodded and walked off to complete his grisly task. Jane turned away to radio in her findings to operations. Her company had been the victim of a surprise attack by fifteen heavily-armed batarian insurgents who refused to surrender. As a consequence, all fifteen were killed along with a civilian mother and her child who were caught in the crossfire, an unfortunate but all to common occurrence in war. No Alliance casualties were sustained. She was about to key her vehicle's comm terminal and issue the report when a thought occurred to her.

Why should these enemy combatants and the mother and child be the only people to suffer? Every blink in the whole damn village must have known what was going on here. They were harboring these insurgents and therefore effectively condoning these attacks. That made them all accessories. She stepped out of her vehicle just as a series of stuttering shots rang out, followed almost immediately by the sounds of bodies slumping and hitting the ground.

A few moans and screams could be heard, but they were quickly silenced by more shots.

"Hey, XO, get the gunny and have him take half our marines to round up the populace here. Use them to start digging trenches," she said as if ordering a meal at a restaurant, "You take the rest of the marines and start filling them up. No survivors."

The first lieutenant looked as if he was about to say something, but instead he nodded and trotted off to find the non-commissioned officer.

He was a good kid, Jane reflected, but a bit too naive. She had hand picked him along with the rest of her unit, one of the benefits of being an N7 operator, so she knew he would nonetheless comply without hesitation. He might not be too sanguine about it, unlike the rest of the men, but he was the best damn executive she could find. There were plenty of stone-cold killers out there, but not many who were smart enough to help her get away with it. He reminded her of Johnny in a lot of ways. In that sense, she was doing this as much for him as for her own brother. She hoped one day he would learn to appreciate it.

...

"...I lied," she wiped tears from her eyes, a useless gesture as they just kept pouring out. She settled for pressing her face into the turian's shirt and holding him. He held her as well, tighter than he ever had before. "God help me please, but Garrus, I can't tell you that. I can't tell you what I did. Not now. Not ever. Are you okay with not knowing?"

"Yeah, that's fine," he replied, "Whatever it was, it couldn't have been that bad."

A moan escaped her lips at the profound fault she found in his statement. She continued to cry, her back heaved up and down against his arms with each heavy sob. She rubbed her face into him, first one direction, then the other, smearing her tears into his casual-wear. A flicker of humor filled her as she realized that Garrus' colony-marking paint wasn't coming off. She remembered that it was meant to be semi-permanent once it dried, usually requiring only touch-ups every so often. It would be weeks before it faded off either her or Janie.

She looked up at him, blinking tears from her bloodshot eyes. "Why do you want to marry me?" she asked in all seriousness.

"Isn't it obvious?" he retorted, "Because I love you."

She wanted to follow up with 'But why do you love me?' before she found herself crying even harder from his response. She quickly planted her face back into his chest and continued her tearful release, aided by his his talons as they purposefully rubber her back. He wouldn't understand anyway. He had no idea of the kind of person she was.

"I promise you, that's not who I am, not what I am, anymore," she said into soaked shirt between sobs, "Please believe me. That- That _thing_- She died over Alchera."

...

First Lieutenant Thompson banked his assault drop-ship low over the batarian village, pushing the rising smoke aside with his thrusters. From what he could see, several Alliance marines were standing over trenches filled to the brim with dead civilians. It looked like they were assessing the damage of some kind of massacre. It wouldn't have been the first time that the insurgents had retaliated against their own people like this.

This place belonged to Bravo company, and they were famous throughout the theater for working with the locals. Some big-shot warlord must not have appreciated it very much, and this was the result. He checked his allied tracking system. It was alight with blue dots from Charlie company, N7 Marine Force Reconnaissance. They must have been close by and called in as a quick reaction force when word came down. Without any air support, the most critical of the surviving civilians would be dead before they reached a field hospital.

He settled his craft down next to the trench and opened its loading-bay hatch. Stepping out, he jogged over to the first marine he saw, a young service chief standing over a batarian screaming in the trench. He appeared to be simply waiting for the civilian to die. Confused, Thompson turned to the man. "Hey, we can air transport him out of here now," he said, putting a hand on the marine's shoulder, turning him to face the pilot, "Does he need help getting out of there?"

"Yeah, I'll help him," he said, "Help him out of his misery." The chief shrugged off his hand and walked a few paces away.

The pilot heard the softer cries of at least two dozen more men, women, and children. Looking up and down the three hundred meter trench, at the marines who stood there observing, he wondered why they were not bothering to lift a finger to help. They were all looking back at him as if waiting to see what he would do, or waiting for him to leave. He ran to the next closest marine, a first lieutenant like himself.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked, "You aren't here to help them are you? What the fuck, Mate?"

"Just following orders," said the marine.

"Where's your commander?" he asked breathlessly.

"She's over there," he pointed at a group of vehicles cordoning off the village, "Ask for staff lieutenant Shepard."

The pilot took off at a dead sprint, hoping that she had no idea what was going on. More than likely she knew but had been the victim of mutiny and insubordination. In the male-dominated special forces sometimes women were still regarded as second-class citizens on the battlefield. He hoped she was okay.

As he ran, he heard a series of shots ring out from behind him. He cursed to himself and ran even faster.

He debated turning back to his drop-ship and calling this in, but whatever was going on here had to be handled quickly. More innocents would die while higher dithered over what to do about it.

He didn't have to look very hard. The striking red-head stood next to her command vehicle, cleaning her pistol and not even bothering to wear a helmet. She must not have been very worried about getting shot at. There were no signs of duress or armed guards to stop her from using her vehicle's comm to call this in. That was a _very_ bad sign.

"What the hell's going on here, Ma'am?" the lieutenant asked, disbelief in his voice.

The commander looked up in surprise, dropping her weapon, before recovering it with a smile. "Well, Lieutenant, I'm doing my job. These people are either aiding and comforting the insurgents, or are insurgents themselves. They won't be bothering the Alliance now or in the future."

"You..." he trailed off, mouth agape, unable to process what he'd seen and heard in the past few minutes. Alliance marines weren't supposed to act like this. They, and he, were the best of the best. They had a code of honor to live by. How is this even remotely possible? "You monster! You Godless, inhuman monster!"

"Inhuman?" she asked casually, raising her weapon to his chest. "What the hell are you talking about? This _is_ humanity. We've done so, so much worse to each other from the dawn of time until now. I've seen it with my own eyes. What fucking chance do batarians have?"

"I- I... Please don't kill me," he stammered, instinctively raising his hands into the air. His eyes fluctuated between hers and the muzzle of the weapon she held.

"This is just a little pay back." She waved a free hand toward the trenches, "And a way to make sure these blinks don't live to breed more little blinks and do it all over again. The bible says an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Ghandi said that will leave us toothless and blind. Jane Shepard says a life for a life, and I get to have the first go at it."

"You're... You're insane." he said, almost hyperventilating as he took a step back, running up against one of her armored vehicles. "I'm a goddamned human!" he screamed, "I'm not the enemy! Are you just going to kill me?"

"What do I care what you are? You're right, you're human. And that's a strike against you as far as I'm concerned," she replied shrugging with a smile, "But I'm a fair person, so here's the deal. I won't stop you from trying to help these people, since that's what you're so keen to do, even at the expense of your fellow marines."

"Okay," he replied warily, definitely not liking the way she smiled.

"Start walking," she said in a flat tone, gesturing to the huge trench with her pistol.

As he arrived at the edge of the trench with the commander, half-a-dozen of her fellow N7 operators formed a semicircle around the pair.

"We were just getting ready to leave, so we won't even be here to stop you," Shepard said, "But you're not going to have a ship." She gestured to the vehicle just as a pair of marines hit it with rockets from their launchers, sending shrapnel flying in front of a fiery plume.

"Wha...?" The pilot was stunned, but recovered quickly. Even if he had to walk for days back to base, he would bring this bitch to justice.

"Oh, and I should warn you, flyboy," she said, her sultry voice accentuated by a devilish smile, "One thing us ground-pounders have learned is that these folks don't have translators."

His expression turned to confusion, unable as he was to grasp the significance of the statement. Understanding only dawned on him as the woman's boot slammed into his chest. He fell backwards into the trench, into the waiting hands of the few batarians left alive but dying, each seeking vengeance with their last few moments of life.

"Enjoy the kindness that all people from all galactic races have for each other," she cackled over her shoulder as she and her troops left.

Not one marine spared a second glace back at the screaming lieutenant as the dying civilians beat him, chewed at his flesh, and slowly tore him limb from limb. That was strange, he realized with his swiftly fading final thoughts, since he could have sworn he heard the translated voice of a young batarian girl screaming for someone to stop.

**Please Review.**

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**A reminder that this story is part of my Warrior Ethos series, so you may want to check that out. **

**My next femShep/Garrus chapter will be on Garrus' loyalty mission. Maybe sooner. Maybe.**


	4. No Leaf Clover

**A/N: There is some disturbing content about two-thirds of the way down, continuing to the end. If you're not interested in reading it, I suggest you stop reading once you get to the part where Liara stops talking to Garrus and begins talking to Jane. From there, you may skip to the bottom where I have a synopsis prepared for you.**

**Although this story may be taken as a stand-alone fic, it is also part of my much larger Warrior Ethos universe. FemShep is as much a part of that story as ManShep is, so you will definitely enjoy reading it.**

Chapter 4: No Leaf Clover

"Hey, did you forget your room was on the right side?" Jane asked, beginning to disrobe her armor.

She let the pieces drop haphazardly to the floor as she made her way to the lower level of her cabin. Her gauntlets made it as far as the fish tank, her vambraces, the stairs, and her chest plate fell at the foot of her bed where Tali was seated. One-by-one she unclasped her cuisses then greaves, kicking them to the floor near her nightstand, before reclining on the bed next to the dour-looking quarian. Her joke having fallen completely flat, she placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and gently held her.

"I'm sorry about your father, Little Sis," she said, "Don't you want to prepare for his remembrance dinner tomorrow night? It seems like half the Migrant Fleet has said they'll be aboard for it. Or maybe you want to keep Johnny company in the medbay? I think he'd be much better at... You know... Cheering you up than I would."

"No, he wouldn't," she said, "I can leave if you want me to. I'm sorry, I came in here without permission. I convinced EDI to let me in."

Jane made a note of that. It wasn't so much that EDI let Tali in that interested her, everyone aboard the _Normandy_ knew that Tali was the little sister that Jane never had, but rather it was that the engineer had even bothered to ask the artificial intelligence instead of simply hacking her way inside. The young woman had not been EDI's biggest fan when she came aboard the SR-2, to say the least, and the Spectre felt glad that their status had changed perceptibly since then. Crew cohesion would benefit of all of them in countless ways.

"Oh, okay, so no John then," she said, not even attempting to hide the deep breath she took or the sigh that followed, "I'm always here for you."

Tali said nothing, but looked up at her, showing the barest hint of a smile. It was hard to tell with the mask, but Jane sat close enough to her that she thought it was a distinct possibility.

"So, I'm not the best at this sort of thing," the captain said, "But I, uh, know what it's like to lose a parent. My dad and I were really close. He practically raised me himself while mom was off playing Alliance officer."

"He raised you?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, on Earth," she replied, "We still have a house there. Left it to me and Johnny. We signed it over to my aunt, his sister. She needed it more than we did."

"I'd like to visit there one day," the quarian said, clasping her hands over her knees. She turned away, stared at her toes, and looked generally unresponsive to the world around her.

"Sure, Tals, sure, but it's not in the best neighborhood..."

"Anywhere on Earth would be fine," the girl said, "It seems like it paradise compared to the Fleet, where space is always trying to kill you. Or Palaven, where it's the sun. Or the gravity on Dekuuna. Or the pressure on Irune. Or the water on Kahje. Or the arrogance on Thessia."

"Hah! That's a joke," said Jane, rubbing the young quarian's back vigorously, "I knew it. Always good to keep a sense of humor, even when everything looks bleak and the world turns to shite. You still have it in there somewhere. Earth is a great place, yeah, but like everywhere it has it's good and bad sides. So... Do you want to talk about your father?"

"No," said Tali, shaking her head.

"You just want to sit here next to me?"

She nodded.

Jane pulled her in for a comforting hug. They stayed like that for a few minutes, the ship's engineer leaning close against her captain, the girl's head resting on the older woman's shoulder. Jane placed one of her hand's over Tali's and squeezed it. That seemed to break the girl out of her silence.

"It's not about my father," she said, "I... I'm sad about that, yes, very sad, but he and I weren't close. I'm expecting a crying fit at some point, but not right now. It's... It's John."

"Aw, Hell," mumbled Jane before she could help herself, "Sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out. It's just that- He's my brother, you know? The two of you are my family as much as my own daughter and I don't want to be caught in the middle of anything. I don't like to think of you guys as fighting."

Her feelings on the subject aside, it still seemed that Tali had something on her chest that she needed to get out. That it involved her brother, a topic that she had strenuously hoped to avoid with the quarian, was incidental to whether or not she would listen like an older sister should. Of course, any advice she might give could be skewed in favor of Johnny, so in the interest of fairness she would just have to keep her mouth diplomatically shut. And since she _never _gave a flying toss about talking with her female friends about men, that wouldn't be too difficult a proposition.

"We're not fighting," said Tali, "I just... I can't see him like that... After that prime burned his face off. Seeing what's underneath him- both of you- what Cerberus had to do to bring you back. I love him more than anything, but seeing the machine underneath made me physically ill. He's... He's like the geth."

"He's still John. I'm still Jane. We're not machines. We still have souls," she said, slipping her rosary out from beneath her undershirt and rubbing it between a thumb and fingers, "We still have our brains," she finished, tapping the side of her head with her other index finger. She figured that explaining the obvious wouldn't count against her decision to not offer the girl relationship advice.

Tali glanced up at her, still looking deeply troubled, even through her semi-opaque visor. "Big Sis, have you heard of the Ship of Theseus?"

"Yeah. I think so," she said, "That's an asari cruiser, right?"

"Um, yeah..."

"So? What about it?"

"I... Uh, oh, you know me. Us quarians, always thinking about ships," she stammered, "It helps take our minds off other things."

"Right. Well I'm here if you want to listen, although Garrus will be joining us in a minute or two. He's talking with Miranda about some stuff."

"Oh?" the quarian asked, her tone sounding slightly sharper, "What about?"

"Eh, nothing important," she replied, "but he seems interested in it. He's concerned about whatever project Galatea is, about Daro'Xen, and about her hooking wires up to my brain. Oh, and whatever she said to him in Latin."

Jane wasn't the best at reading body language, but in this instance Tali's reaction made it obvious that she was worried about something. She wasn't shocked, there was no sudden or jarring movement, but she did appear to feel extremely nervous about what she had said. The girl was practically tap-dancing, her toes bounced so rapidly against the carpet. While normally she would be content to interlace her fingers and twiddle them, she had now graduated to full-on hand wringing.

"What's up, Tals? What's going on?" she asked, gently turning the younger woman's shoulder in an effort to get her to look the Spectre in the eye. It didn't work. "You know something. Did you not want to hurt me or make me upset? I can understand that, but tell me. Whatever your reasons were, tell me now."

Tali sat silently for a moment, her anxiety visibly increasing with each second that passed. Finally she stopped all her tics, twitches, and motions before fixing a hard gaze on her captain.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," the girl said, "You may want to call Kelly, or even better, Ashley, but-"

The sliding cabin door interrupted her mid-sentence. Jane's favorite turian walked through without preamble, instantly bringing a smile to the woman's face when her attention shifted towards him. He began shucking off his armor in much the same fashion as Jane had, but carried it along with him to his dresser rather than strewing it about the floor as the captain had done.

"Skully! Glad you're here," she said, a gleam in her eye, "Tali was about to fill me in on everything she knows about Galatea and Xen."

"There's no need," said the turian, sitting down on Jane's other side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "I know everything. You don't need to make her choose between her loyalties to the Fleet and you. I can fill you in on what's going on."

Tali did spared him a fleeting glance before hanging her head and lowering her visor to her palms.

"I... Well, I didn't think it was like _that_. Sorry, Tals," Jane said to the quarian before turning back to Garrus, "So, please fill me in."

"Galatea was the name of the project that brought you back," he said, "It was one of many projects that were in place to support Lazarus. You were there for John's sake. To not upset him with your death. I asked, and I honestly believe that Miranda doesn't have a clue about any of the other projects, only that there were a lot of them."

"So I was only brought back to... support... Johnny's resurrection? Not because they wanted me for anything?" she asked.

"Yes." He pulled her in close, hugging her tight. His plates pressed through the thin fabrics of their shirts, hard, unyielding, but somehow undeniably comfortable.

"Oh. Figures," she said, "I probably wouldn't have wanted to bring me back either."

Garrus pulled away from her, just a bit, mouth slightly agape and mandibles wider than normal. His subharmonics trilled with soft shock. Tali looked just as surprised at the Spectre's calm reaction.

"What?" asked Jane, looking back and forth between her two dextro friends, "It's true. I'm not hurt or offended by it or anything. What about Xen's involvement?"

"Oh, well, we think that she either has spies within Cerberus or she's actually working with them-"

"No quarian would ever work with Cerberus," interrupted Tali.

"And yet just yesterday, you Miranda, and I had a delightful working-lunch together," Jane said with a smirk, "You and her planned out all the ship's upgrades from now until the end of her service-life."

"That's different," chided the quarian.

"One thing at a time, ladies," said Garrus, "Whatever connections Xen has, they might matter, or they might not. I'm sure Liara will be able to figure that one out for us. What I think is that the data Tali gave Xen on projects Lazarus and Galatea has inspired her to somehow continue the work... Maybe resurrect quarians or build cyborgs or robots or something. That's what the data in your head was for, I believe."

"It could also be somehow geth-related," added Tali, "She's into that sort of thing. Building better platforms, or even finding a way to for a living, organic mind to share a single platform together with geth runtimes. Kind of like the way the software in your synthetic parts responds perfectly to your brain, Sis."

"Bloody hell," Jane chuckled, "I think you just called my body a platform."

Tali's eyes went wide, filling her whole mask with light. "No, I swear, I-"

"Joking, Little Sis, Jesus," Jane patted the girl on the back, but she still looked scared. "So, Garrus, what about what she said to you?"

"Hmmm? What do you mean? Didn't you hear it?" he asked, his subharmonic tones trilling in a way that she couldn't quite decipher. It was almost as if they were somehow muffled.

"Of course I heard it," she replied, "But it was in Latin, wasn't it? Or some other human language I don't speak and can't interpret. You said you were going to look into it."

"Oh. Right. Yes, well, what she said to you was a quote by a human named Day'Kart."

"Sounds quarian," Tali piped up. No one paid attention.

"It means 'I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am.'" he finished.

"So Xen doubts something?" Jane asked.

Garrus shrugged. "Seems logical to me."

"And what about what she said to you?" the captain asked.

"That was a quote from a very ancient human book." He pulled up the text on his omni-tool before continuing, "It translates to something like 'Why, gullible youth, do you vainly catch at a fleeting image? What you are seeking is nowhere; what thou are in love with, turn but away and you shall lose it; what you see, the same is but the shadow of a reflected form; it has nothing of its own.'"

The entire time while he had been speaking, Tali had been loudly grinding her teeth. The noise poured through her vocalizer, taking on the tinny quality of her speech. In Jane's mind's eye, it conjured up fantastical images of a fenris mech somehow chewing on a varren bone. The only reason that she hadn't noticed earlier was because of Garrus' oh-so-distracting voice. It was a good thing for her that he didn't speak much in combat or she would have been in real trouble during some of their firefights. She turned to fix her boyfriend with a quizzical expression, the translated words fresh on her mind.

"I wouldn't pay much attention to it," he said, closing the haptic window, "I think she was trying to get to me. Maybe convince me that I'm just a fling to you-"

"That's not fucking true!" she shouted, stalling the turian mid-sentence.

"I know, I know that," he said, running a hand through her hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other, "As I said, she was just trying to get to me."

The Spectre mumbled some choice words under her breath and sighed. Garrus was right. That admiral was marginally sane at best, and fit the classic definition of a mad scientist without any reservations. Jane would never have allowed her to connect anything to her head were Tali not two feet away, monitoring the interface, _and_ it weren't absolutely necessary to ensure the young engineer's acquittal.

If that admiral did have a human lover, as the rumors apparently went, she felt truly sorry for that man or woman. Daro'Xen could easily make the Marquis de Sade look like an Amish missionary. Just the thought of what that might be like sent Jane marching in the direction of the mini-bar she kept under her desk.

...

"I'm gonna get a drink," said Jane, getting up and starting for the steps to her office area, "Xen is such a bitch..."

"Pour me one too," Garrus said. He didn't really feel like drinking at the moment, but it would help to keep his future bondmate occupied for a few moments longer.

"Sure," Jane called back, "Tali?"

One of the ex-C-Sec officer's mandibles flared wide, the equivalent of a human's half-smirk. It had become something of a joke between the three of them to always offer Tali a drink whenever either he or Jane had one. Everyone aboard knew that their engineer never partook in spirituous beverages.

"Yeah," the quraian replied.

Jane and Garrus turned to the girl, humorous surprise written on their faces. The former almost dropped the pair of glasses she had retrieved from her decanter set. Garrus was about to question Tali about it before the events of the day caught up with him. The girl's lifemate's face had been blown off, along with the flesh on most of his arms, exposing the chrome and glowing-red endo-skeleton beneath. Her father had died practically in front of her, mere minutes before she could arrive to help. If something like that had happened to him, he might even try levo booze if that was all he could get.

"Alright," said Jane, "Let me get a sterile tube from Johnny's room. Be right back."

Tali looked like she wanted to say something, to stop her from going through the trouble, but Jane was already out the door. That was good at least. He would have a moment to talk to the young woman in private without having to whisper.

"So, Tali, it's a good thing she didn't ask about the 'shadow of a reflected form' part, huh?"

"What?" She asked, looking confused.

"The translation. _That_ part of the translation," he clarified.

"So you know... All of what happened to Jane?" Tali asked, "What they had to do to her? Even the parts of your explanation you left out?

He nodded. "I know enough. I pieced together most of it, I think. We can talk more later, but right now there's still one thing I don't understand... Maybe you can help me out with it."

"I'll try," she said.

"It's about those helmets," he said, "I just don't get it. John's was in pretty good condition when we found it, but Jane's... Jane's was scorched black and the entire back of it was missing. I couldn't figure out why that would be the case... We thought it might have been someone who found it and shot it up after the fact, remember?"

She nodded.

"You saw all the data that Project Lazarus collected on their fall from orbit," the former C-Sec detective said. He shook his head, dreading what he was about to say next. He did _not_ want to relive those memories. "Jane was conscious for that, as I recall. A terrible, lonely, frightening experience... Let me ask you this. Did she pull her brother close in to her, so they wouldn't be separated? So she wouldn't lose him... when they fell into that gravity-well together?"

She nodded again.

"Right. That seems logical. You or I might have done the same," he said, activating his omni-tool and typing a few notes before shutting it down again. "Just one more thing. Did Jane position herself beneath her brother, to protect him from the fall?"

"Yes."

...

"What's 'yes?'" asked Jane as she stepped through the sliding door and into the room, a drink tube and glasses in hand.

"Just talking about you," said Garrus, his mandibles flaring into a smile, fluttering just a bit as they did.

"Hah. Very funny. Here's your drink, babe," she said, proffering a tumbler of strong drink to the turian, "And yours, Sis."

The engineer practically snatched the tube out of the other woman's hand, so eager was she to connect it to her mask and imbibe. No sooner than Jane had taken her first sip of whiskey than she noticed that the quarian's was already halfway empty. She would have said something like 'slow down' or 'I didn't know quarians descended from fish' but the chance to see a drunk Tali was just too good to pass up.

They sat and talked about anything and everything, from who was dating who on the ship- Ken and Gabby were where at the top of the betting pool- to what to do when the mission was finally over, to what summer blockbuster films they were each most wanted to see. They continued like that for another hour or so before Jane was struck with a bright idea. Garrus had mentioned some movie epic about turian colonial unification and how he was supposedly distantly related to one of the main characters. Somewhere in the back of her mind it had clicked that it also mean that she would be too, hopefully one day soon. To that end, she got up and began rooting around in one of his drawers, producing a container of face-paint and a brush before returning to the bed with Garrus and Tali.

The turian spent the next ten minutes painting his colony markings, reinterpreted for a humans, on her face. He had just applied the finishing touches when the sound of Jane's ring tone took their attention away from his careful ministrations. Careful not to smear any of it, she looked down at the device, reading the name of the caller.

"Liara's on the comm. It's real-time with video," she said, hitting the answer button, "Hello?"

"_Jane, so good to see you,_" the asari said, her face popping up above the human's wrist, "_Please tell me that I didn't upset you so much the last time I was there that you didn't invite me to the wedding._"

"Hardly," the she scoffed, holding up her left hand for the woman, "I don't see a ring on this finger yet, do you? And he hasn't even bit me. I'm starting to think I taste bad or something..."

A low rumble came from the turian, annoyance if she ever heard it, bringing a smile to the Spectre's face.

_"Well, these things take time. It makes me glad to hear your voice, you know. I wanted to call and see how Tali was doing, but I can't seem to find her number anywhere. Hiding from me is quite a feat, given what I now do for a living._"

"Maybe not for a quarian," Jane replied, glancing at Tali. The girl nodded at the implied question. "She's right here, if you want to talk to her."

"_May I?_"

Jane angled her arm out for the young woman, putting her face-to-face with the asari.

"Hello, Shadow Broker," she said, smiling with her eyes, "What can I do for you?"

"_I want to express my condolences. I heard about what happened to your father. I'm here for you if you need anything, or need anything done... You name it_."

"Thank you Liara," the engineer replied, "I mean that. Thank you. At the moment I'm fine, but I will let you know. I don't even want to talk about it, really."

"_Of course. I have some news for Jane and Garrus, too_."

"Is it about Junior?" the Spectre asked, hoping it was good news.

"_No, but she does want to speak to you. Perhaps you should talk to her first before we continue. My news is very disturbing._"

"No. Bad news first. It doesn't get better with time," she replied.

"_Very well. About Garrus... I'm managed to locate his old comrade Sidonis. He is currently on the Citadel under an assumed identity provided by an individual who calls himself 'Fade.' I have reason to believe that Fade is none other than former C-Sec officer Harkin. He was fired recently for racketeering. I will send you a list of his known hang-outs, drinking spots, and favorite eating establishments, along with current home address and a rough outline of his daily schedule."_

"That Spirits-damned bastard," growled Garrus, balling his talons into fists, "The both of them. Two pyjaks with one stone... This is gonna be good." He looked to Jane.

It was her decision on whether or not they would be able to make a short stop at the Citadel to take care of the issue. She would have said yes without hesitation, but something didn't sit quite right with her. Maybe Garrus had sensed it to, which was why he had bothered asking about what was already an ostensibly settled issue. She had said that she would be more than happy to assist him, would pull the trigger herself if she had to, and hadn't they just been talking about what movies they might want to see on their next shore leave? That was the perfect opportunity. And Sidonis needed to be killed, didn't he?

She gave him a half-smile, "Yeah, babe. We'll get him, and I'll help you."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. "Thanks, babe."

"_I also have news for you, Jane_," said the asari, interrupting their moment, "_I was looking though all of the Broker's contacts, agents, handlers, and spies. I'll give you three guesses as to who I found working for me._"

"Councilor Sparatus?"

"_No._"

"Conrad Verner?"

"_Guess again._"

"Um... The ramen guy on level twenty-six?"

"_Uh, no..._"

"Tela Vasir," said a flanged voice to her immediate right.

"_Thank you, Garrus. Yes, she was on his payroll_."

"But we kinda knew that. Or at least suspected it she was up to no good," said Jane.

"_Then why didn't you guess it?_" said Liara, sounding incredibly cheeky.

"Keep it up, Liara," Jane growled, "Mother of my child or not, I'm gonna beat the blue off your arse..."

"_Why Shepard, I must say that doesn't sound like much of a threat_."

"Liara. Why is this important?" the Spectre grumbled.

"_It's not, by itself, anyway. But I looked into it, trying to find her current whereabouts in case you were interested in pursuing. I found out that she hasn't checked in with her handler since about the time you let her go. That lead me to the Illium obituaries, which lead me to a coroner's report_."

The first two things to run through Jane's mind were suicide and frame-up. Garrus was probably thinking the same thing. He didn't have much faith in coincidences either. Ordinarily, framing her for someone's death would amount to absolutely nothing. She was a Spectre, after all, and completely entitled to kill whomever she pleased. But another Spectre? She could be hunted down and executed for that. The irony of facing a firing squad for the one murder she _didn't_ commit wasn't lost on her.

"And what did the coroner's report find?" asked Garrus.

"_It was... uncomfortable to read. I don't know if I should go on. You don't need to hear it._"

Jane raised an eyebrow. Academic archaeologist or not, Liara was currently the Shadow Broker, had spent a year fighting off some of the most terrible people in the galaxy to recover her and her brother's bodies, and before that had served with the rest of the team in some of the most intense and bloody combat zones in the galaxy. 'Uncomfortable' shouldn't have been in her vocabulary.

"It's okay, Liara," said the Spectre, "Go ahead."

"_Tela Vasir, age one-hundred seventy-three, died from a gunshot wound to the left temporal lobe at point-blank range. Shearing of the flesh around the entrance wound indicates that the muzzle of the weapon was pressed directly against her flesh when it was fired. Microscopic fragments of the projectile were recovered. The rate of oxidation suggests a high level of heat transfer, indicating the weapon was manufactured prior to the introduction of thermal magazines. Velocity and caliber suggest a pistol of human manufacture, most likely a Harpy X-_"

"So this was Cerberus," interrupted Garrus, "Cerberus Skunkworks made those."

"_Not necessarily-_"

"The Alliance used them too," Jane interrupted this time, a chill running down her spine and a nasty pit forming in her stomach, "Before Cerberus went rogue. Specifically, Alliance Marine Force Reconnaissance, N7 and otherwise. Maybe a few other special operations forces in the nations and colonies. Not sure. Please... Please continue, Liara."

"_The victim was found with flexible restraints binding her to a chair at both hands and both feet. Corresponding ligature marks were in evidence. Bruising about the head, upper arms, and thighs occurred perimortem- before she died- but was non-life-threatening. Her daughter-_"

"Oh, God," croaked Jane, her voice catching in her throat. She knew what was coming next and clamped a hand around her mouth as if trying to hold back a scream. She blinked her eyes rapidly before squeezing them tight, needing to force the moisture back inside. She didn't want to reach the point of no return with Tali here. She needed to be strong for her. When she spoke next, her voice was horse, barely a whisper. "No... No, no, no... God no, please don't let this be real. Please let this not be. Please..."

"_I'll stop. I shouldn't have brought-_"

"No!" Jane said, "No. You warned me and I asked anyway. I... need to hear this. I need to hear this. Please go on."

"_Her daughter was shot one time through the left parietal bone, about a centimeter from where the coronal and sagittal sutures meet. They weren't even fully fused yet. Death was instantaneous_."

That was the top of the head. Jane felt numb and dead inside. She could hear Liara's words, but try as she might, she could only process them in the vaguest way imaginable. It was as familiar to her as riding a bicycle, the sensation of not being entirely there while the slings and arrows of a world gone wrong fell all about her. She had felt like this several times before, when her father had been attacked, when Johnny had been rendered comatose at Elysium, and more recently, every time things got a little too hot on the battlefield and instinct and training would have to take over for her. This was no different. Only later would she process and relive what Liara was telling her.

Hopefully Garrus wouldn't think any less of her a few hours from now when she began crying her eyes out, delirious with grief, grasping for him as she would her father every time she had heard a bump in the night as a small child. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to lie down next to him, curl up tight against his chest, and stay that way for the foreseeable future, forever shutting out the world around her. But she couldn't do that. She owed it to this family to at least hear Liara's words, if not actually listen to their content.

Liara continued, "_Tela's wife and the girl's mother, Angelica Vasir, was brutally beaten about the torso, cracking several ribs, one of which punctured her right lung causing a hemothorax to develop. It would have been fatal by itself, if not treated. Her cause of death was actually positional asphyxia, which occurred when she was bent double and stuffed into their apartment's utility closet. It is believed she survived several hours in there before finally succumbing to death._"

Jane was still at a loss for words. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in her entire experience of thirty-one years of life that could convey how absolutely terrible she felt at that moment. Were it not for her daughter, her brother, Garrus, and the families that still needed to see her brought to justice, she could have comfortably taken her own life then and there. According to her faith, Hell was the wages of unrepentant sinners. She deserved that. The Spectre first looked to the aforementioned turian, then to Tali. It seemed they were just as stunned. The three of them remained like that, locked in speechless contemplation for almost a full minute.

Finally, Tali broke the still air. "That is... The most disgusting thing I have ever heard."

Garrus agreed, "I was a Soldier for fifteen years, and a C-Sec officer after that. I've never heard of anything so despicable."

"Why would anyone do that?" Tali asked, reaching over to hold Jane's hand, "Just to frame you? That's insane!"

"Insane is right," said Garrus. He let out a deep sigh. "Well, if there's a silver lining here, it's that you're in the clear, babe. No one in their right mind would ever, ever believe you'd be capable of something like that."

**A/N: Synopsis of the not-so-nice part: Tela Vasir and her family have been killed in much the same way as Jane killed several of her victims on Torfan. **

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**This is part of the larger WE universe. Check out those stories too, for a complete picture. Jane and Garrus are very much major characters there.**


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